


For the love of...Camelot

by AngstandPizzaRolls



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe-Canon Era, Arthur Finds Out, M/M, Magic Revealed, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstandPizzaRolls/pseuds/AngstandPizzaRolls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur was just waiting for his manservant to crack, to show some measure of disloyalty but, besides the occasional grumbling and his inability to address Arthur with the proper title, he was…not a model servant because he was still crap, but he was just as good as he had always been.<br/>Arthur wondered how long it would take his magic to corrupt him.</p><p>or, in which Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic in his battle against Cornelius Sigan in s02e01 and has to come to terms with the fact that Merlin is a sorcerer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught

Arthur was knocked to the ground after the massive stone creature slammed into him. At least his men had made it to safety. As he lay on the ground waiting for the beast to finish him, too dizzy to move but too alert to slip into unconsciousness, Merlin’s words, of all things, raced through his mind.

_“Cedric is possessed by an evil spirit. He tried to steal the jewel but it wasn’t a jewel it was the soul of an ancient sorcerer Sigan. Please, listen to me. Camelot is in mortal danger. Sigan is using Cedric’s body to take his revenge.”_

Gods, Arthur had been such an idiot. In all the times Merlin had come to him with outlandish theories of nefarious plots against Camelot, he had never been wrong. But he dismissed him, threw him in the dungeon even for trying to save everyone.

And he was there now, trapped while Sigan-in-Cedric’s-body destroys the town. His last words still echoed in Arthur’s head, taunting him, cursing him.

_“He’s going to destroy Camelot!”_

Fighting to pull enough air into his lungs, he braced himself to lift his sword against the beast, who was swooping in for the kill. As long as Arthur had breath in his body, he would defend Camelot. The shout of indistinguishable words and the shower of stone around him froze Arthur.

That was definitely magic, but why would Sigan destroy his own creation?

The heavy silence that followed allowed Arthur to track the new comer. He was still too weak to open his eyes after the blow to the head but his whole body tensed as the footsteps began to pick up speed and suddenly there were hands on his chest and heavy breathing against his face that was distinctly Merlin’s.

“Who would’ve believed it. You, a sorcerer. And a powerful one” Cedric’s voice echoed across the courtyard. The shock of it forced his eyes open and he watched as Merlin looked to face the approaching enemy.

In the heavy gloom, the darkness seemed to engulf his manservant casting shadows beneath his cheekbones and the hollows of his neck. The contrast of the shadows against his pale skin that seemed to glow in the light of the moon was striking. Arthur had never seen him look so deadly.

But Arthur supposed he should’ve realized it sooner. This man knelt beside him had tackled an evil immortal sorcerer just a few hours ago.

Merlin’s words were spoken before Sigan’s had fully registered in Arthur’s mind. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

“And you’re going to stop me?”

Merlin was on his feet now, moving closer to face Sigan. Arthur’s mind was screaming at him to grab his hand and not let him go. This was Arthur’s battle to fight, but Merlin was the only one who was able to stand.

“I’ll stop you.” There was something so confident about the way those words were spoken. The subtle strength, the immovable resolve. The surety made some of the tension seep out of Arthur’s body without his permission.

“He does not deserve your loyalty. He treats you like a slave.” Sigan said.

“That’s not true.” Merlin’s voice had begun to waver but his words made Arthur’s chest swell.

“He cast you aside without a moment’s thought.”

His chest came crashing down again, now with a sizable weight pressing on it. When Merlin had been thrown in the dungeon and Cedric had disappeared, Arthur was left alone with his thoughts and his guilt. And it had been weighing on the back of his mind ever since.

“That doesn’t matter.” Merlin said, his voice strong as it had ever been.

“But it must hurt so much. To be so put upon, to be so overlooked when all the while you have such power.”

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. Merlin had never wanted to be a servant. He had been forced into the role but he served well and with unwavering loyalty even as his father murdered his kind. With loyalty that, Sigan was right, Arthur didn’t deserve. Serving a prince who he believed would’ve had him executed if his true nature had ever been revealed. For just a moment, he thought he could start to comprehend the burden that had been weighing on merlin all this time. So Merlin’s next words made Arthur’s chest ache.

“That’s the way it has to be.”

“Does It? You’re young merlin. Look inside yourself you have yet to discover your true power. I can help you.” Sigan reached out in the air for him and continued, “Think, Merlin, to have the world appreciate your greatness. To have Arthur know you for what you are.”

Arthur could see Merlin’s chest stutter at this. He struggled to lift his head and tried to shout so Merlin would know he had heard but it came out as a harsh whisper, “Merlin!”

They couldn’t hear him.

“That can never be.” Merlin said, shaking his head and taking a step back. Arthur could tell he was wavering. The things Sigan was offering, power, reverence, it would tempt any man. He had to know that Arthur was there, that he wouldn’t betray him for his magic. But all Arthur could manage was scraping the tip of his sword against the stones.

“It can.” Sigan’s promises were warm. “If you join me. Together we can rule over this land. Arthur will tremble at your voice, he will kneel at your feet.”

There was darkness in Merlin’s gaze then, his strength returning to him as he made his choice.“I don’t want that.”

The air rushed from Arthur’s lungs in a puff through his involuntary smile. Even though he was relieved at Merlin’s declaration, he shared in the confusion in Sigan’s next words, “You’d rather be a servant?” Who would want to be a servant laboring for an ungrateful lord when they had power like Sigan had mentioned?

“Better to serve a good man than to rule with an evil one.”

“So be it.” Sigan took a sharp breath. “If you will not join me, I will become you and your power will be harnessed to my will.”

Arthur, unable to do anything but watch, saw the rolling blue smoke pour out of Cedric’s mouth and seep across the stones. When it reached Merlin and started curling around his ankles, he set his chin and started to chant. His body straining to resist the power that was invading him. Then he collapsed.

Gaius’ voice was the next thing Arthur heard, calling out into the dark of the courtyard for his apprentice. From his position of the ground, Arthur could see both his own fear mirrored in the physician’s face and a swirling blue stone in Merlin’s hand.

But there was laughter and embraces and a “Well done, my boy,” filled with so much pride, it sent a tiny pang of jealousy through Arthur. His head thunked back against the stones and Arthur heaved huge sigh, letting the darkness take him.

|||

When he woke in his bed a few hours later, sunlight streaming in, a thought rang strong and clear through his mind before any others. Merlin was a sorcerer. He was a sorcerer who had stared into the face of evil temptation and resisted the urge for wealth and power and reverence. Not only that, but he’d saved Camelot.

But he’d broken the law. From the sound of it, he’d been breaking it for many months.

There was one thing keeping Arthur from turning Merlin in. Well, maybe two things, but there was only one he let himself think about. _Better to serve a good man than rule with an evil one._

He was a sorcerer who had no desire for power or notoriety. He served Arthur because he believe he was a good man. And how many times had he saved the oblivious prince’s life?

Arthur could understand why Merlin never admitted to having magic-One stern look from Uther and even Arthur was stricken with fear sometimes-but he was torn between his duty to the law and his loyalty the previous night’s display had opened his eyes to. Just because Arthur understood didn’t mean it didn’t hurt that Merlin thought he couldn’t trust Arthur. What hurt even more was the fact that Arthur wasn’t sure that if Merlin had told him the truth sooner, he wouldn’t have turned him in.

This is what carried him to the door of the physician’s chambers, a bag of dirty armor in his hand as an excuse. But Gaius’ rumbling voice made Arthur pause outside and listen to another conversation he wasn’t supposed to be hearing.

“You know you won’t get any thanks, Merlin.”

“I’m not a complete idiot.” Merlin said and Arthur had to fight back a laugh because the comment was so obviously directed at him and he wasn’t even there to Merlin’s knowledge.

“There you go. It’s not much but you deserve something.” Gaius said and there was a small clatter. Arthur couldn’t hold back anymore. He knocked three quick raps and pushed his way inside. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say but he knew he couldn’t listen anymore about how Merlin saved the day and wasn’t getting any credit. It did strange things to his stomach.

“I’ve come to see Merlin.” He said, to stall. He saw the other man shift uneasily in his seat and he wondered if Merlin ever felt guilty for lying to Arthur about his secret. He certainly looked it now. Or maybe he was just apprehensive because the only time Arthur ever came to see him was to give him chores.

“I’ve not forgotten about your lazy, insolent ways. Or the fact that you called me clot _pole_.” He said the word carefully with enough disdain that Merlin got the hint. “But I do have to admit there was some truth in your accusations against Cedric.”

“Does mean that on this occasion, you’re actually admitting that I was right?” The other man looked so hopeful, but Arthur just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not when the sting of betrayal still pricked him.

“Not exactly, no.” He said, “It means that I have a knighthood to bestow first thing tomorrow and no one to clean my armor.” He got a lot more enjoyment out of dumping the heaping pile of metal all over Merlin’s celebratory lunch than he probably should have done. “All that?” Merlin said taking in the sight of it all.

“Yep.” Arthur said, and he couldn’t resist tossing the bag in his servant’s face. It was petty, he knew, but if Merlin wanted to keep secrets from him, then Arthur would make him pay for it.

||||

At the dinner table that evening, Arthur was quiet. Even when Morgana taunted him. Especially when his father tried to congratulate him on his recent victory.

When Arthur did little more than glance up and twitch his goblet in thanks, Uther pushed aside his food and turned a stern look, Arthur supposed he thought was a concerned expression, on his son.

“Arthur, What is the matter?”

He wanted to tell his father. The words were on the tip of his tongue ready to spill out. But he remembered his father’s face, strangely similar to the way it is now, when Gwen was arrested for sorcery. He had been ready to kill her even though she had been a loyal servant for many years. She hadn’t even been given a proper trial. Merlin would get even less if Arthur declared he had magic. Those words were as good as beheading the man himself.

“What if someone…” Arthur trailed off, trying to figure out a way to ask his question without giving anything away. “What if someone who wasn’t evil used magic?”

Morgana’s head shot up, her piercing eyes searching Arthur’s face. Uther didn’t see her though. He just stared uncomprehendingly at his son.

“I mean, what if someone had magic, but they didn’t use it to hurt people?”

Silence stretched out and Arthur regretted speaking especially when his father started laughing coldly and said, “I think the events of the last 24 hours have proven that can never be.”

“But-”

“Magic corrupts the mind of even the strongest man, Arthur.” Uther scolded, he placed his knife and fork on the table purposefully. “If ever a person uses magic even for the noblest of causes, it will consume their soul. I’ve seen it happen many times before.”

“You’re right, father.” Arthur said deferentially, ducking his head. Morgana still watched him but she wasn’t staring so hard anymore. “I’m sorry I asked.”

Conversation steered away, but Arthur’s thoughts stayed behind.

He had seen Merlin turn away from the promise of great power and destroy an evil sorcerer with magic. He had seen the power merlin could wield and watched him choose to be a servant instead. But he had also seen the glimmer of desire in Merlin’s eyes when Sigan told of the glory he could offer. Was he still tempted? How long could he go on doing Arthur’s biding before it became too much and the those desires seething in the back of his mind rebelled?

He thought he could trust Merlin, but he had also thought Merlin was the farthest thing from magical. What if his father was right? What if his magic corrupted him? The sharp twist in his stomach made him lose his appetite.

|||

When he made it back to his room, Merlin was there. His armor laid out on the table to be polished.

“Arthur.” Merlin said, bolting upright from the chair, his hauberk clattered against the table. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until later.”

“I canceled my meeting.” Arthur blew past him to shuffle through some papers on the desk. “Light a fire, would you?”

“Uh huh,” Merlin said. Arthur was going to scold him-that was no way to address his master-but he was distracted by his manservant fumbling with the flint stones. How many times had Arthur come into his room with a fire already roaring in the hearth? Now Merlin couldn’t even hold the flints right?

“Some time today, would be nice.” Arthur said, pretending to be absorbed in the parchment he was reading. He turned his back to his manservant but kept a close eye on him in the reflection in the window.

Merlin tried the flint stones a few more times, but when that didn’t work, he cast a careful glance over his shoulder at Arthur and whispered a few quick words of magic. A fire flared to life in the hearth.

When Merlin stood again, Arthur was facing him, parchment dangling by the very tips of his fingers. He paled to a ghostly white as the silence stretched out between them, certain that this was the moment his secrets were revealed.

But Arthur stayed silent. He didn’t know if he wanted to have this talk yet, or even if he’d know what to say if they did talk. He was still stunned. Seeing his idiot manservant wielding power like that, his deep blue eyes turning a brilliant shining gold for just a moment.

All the breath was pulled out of his lungs slowly until they strained, at the fear he saw in Merlin’s eyes. He turned back around to take a seat at his desk. He heard the huge rush of air that blew out of Merlin in obvious relief. He went back to polishing his armor at the table facing the now sizable fire.

If Arthur looked up, he could see Merlin, the lean line of his neck in the flickering firelight. He found himself looking up lot in the dying hours of the evening.

Merlin was almost finished with the armor when Arthur stood up from his desk. He wandered over to Merlin’s table. The motion was too tense to be called idle.

“Is there something you needed, sire?”

“Hm?” Arthur, looked up placing his hands on his hips in an attempt to stop fidgeting. “Oh, yes. I want to practice for the jousting tournament next week.” Arthur made up quickly, “Inform the knights.”

“Yes, sire.” Merlin nodded dutiful and placed the newly cleaned and polished helmet on the table. “Will that be all?

“For tonight.” Arthur nodded, pacing back to the far side of his bed. Merlin nodded and went to the door.

“Sleep well, sire.”

“Yes.” Arthur waved him away without another glance. Merlin was a few paces into the hallway when he heard Arthur’s booming voice calling him back.

“What is it, Arthur?”

Arthur was sitting in bed now. All the candles were out and his naked torso was illuminated by only the light of the moon. Merlin was more than a little distracted when Arthur spoke, his voice quiet in the gloom.

“I returned the boy to the druids.”

“What?” Merlin stepped closer like he was struggling to hear. But he had heard perfectly well. Arthur was talking about how he’d shown mercy to a sorcerer just a few hours after Merlin had sworn he’d seen him light the fire using magic.

“My father would’ve had him executed but I helped him escape.” Arthur said. “You’re the only one who knows.”

“Yes, sire.”

“I just want you to remember that.” Arthur said, turning over and settling into his mattress. “That will be all.”

“Yes, sire.” Merlin nodded before turning and fleeing from the room.

|||

The next few days were quiet. Merlin went about his duties as usual and if he was a little more aware of Arthur’s presence in any given room, well neither of them mentioned it.

He couldn’t say why, but every time Arthur looked at Merlin, he felt a swelling in his chest that he decided to classify as anger. And so he piled on as many chores as he could think of to Merlin’s workload, some small manner of revenge. Merlin never complained and he never failed to complete all the tasks, making Arthur somehow more angry and not less. He was just waiting for his manservant to crack, to show some measure of disloyalty but, besides the occasional grumbling and his inability to address Arthur with the proper title, he was…not a model servant because he was still crap, but he was just as good as he had always been.

Arthur wondered how long it would take his magic to corrupt him.


	2. Caution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many times had Merlin used his magic to save Arthur, to save everyone? All those times Arthur believed he was the champion, the defender of the people of Camelot. Was he even capable of being king?  
> He knew a real victory in this tournament wouldn’t mean quite that much but it would go a long way in proving to Arthur that he was capable on his own.

Sometimes Arthur wished he could run away. He never said it out loud, he wouldn’t dare, but he thought about it. Whenever the weight of his title, his birthright, fell too heavily on his shoulders, he would imagine he was a farmer, in one of the outlying villages. In a place that always looked suspiciously like Ealdor. Something strange had begun happening lately, though. He would close his eyes and imagine the countryside stretching on forever, and Merlin would be there beside him. Maybe because the actual labor aspect of farming didn’t appeal to him, or maybe because somewhere in the last few months they had stopped being the prince, Arthur, and the servant, Merlin. They had become Prince Arthur and his servant Merlin.

He had this in mind when Merlin brought out the scraggly farmer who would act as his public face in the tournament. Not for the first time, Arthur wondered if the other man’s powers included mind reading. And that really shouldn’t make him blush so much, he had nothing to hide. Well, except that strange dream he’d had the night before that had definitely made him blush when awoke.

The entire dream had been Merlin preparing him for a fight, stripping off his daily clothes and replacing them with fresh ones. Once he was dressed, he stood still while Merlin pieced together his armor. Like he’d done a hundred times before but this time he used magic, his eyes flashing gold as another piece of armor stitched into place over his body. There was nothing special about the dream besides the small bit of magic but when he woke, Arthur’s heart was racing in his chest and his skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the shivery tension in his limbs.

Arthur had to drag his mind back to the present, to focus on the transformation happening before him. Merlin and Gwen were grooming the farmer, who was beginning to shape up nicely. They just might be able to pull this off.

Discovering that his knights had been going easy on him in competition all this time really shouldn’t have come as such a shock to him. If he really thought about it, it made perfect sense. He was the future king and none of them wanted to risk injuring him. But finding out that all the victories he prided himself on were hollow was a hard truth to face. How was he supposed to be the best if his opponents weren’t giving it their all? How was he supposed to prove to the people or himself that he was the best, the most fit to lead them, if his knights were snickering behind his back about how easily they could’ve beat him?

He needed to win this tournament on his own merits and not his name. For the people and more importantly, for himself. The only way he could do that was to hire this scraggly farmer to be the face of Sir William of Deira so that Arthur could be the sword without any of his opponents holding back. He needed this victory.

Over the last week, Arthur had been plaguing himself with thoughts of all the foes he’d faced since he’d met Merlin, reexamining them in light of his new discovery.Valiant, the Afanc, Nimueh, the griffon, the questing beast. How many times had Merlin used his magic to save Arthur, to save everyone? All those times Arthur believed he was the champion, the defender of the people of Camelot. Was he even capable of being king?

He knew a real victory in this tournament wouldn’t mean quite that much but it would go a long way in proving to Arthur that he was capable on his own.

 |||

Staying in Guinevere’s home was strange. The house was cramped and dirty, the bed grievously uncomfortable. He couldn’t even get a decent bath. She had this way about her that was awkward but in a strangely sweet and charming way, unlike Merlin who was just plain awkward. She looked at him sometimes like her mind was overflowing and she wanted to speak but then she’d blush and stammer and remember he was a prince and she was just a servant and wouldn’t manage to say anything meaningful at all. Arthur felt like they could be great friends if she could learn to treat him less like a prince and more like a person.

There was something very freeing about riding without the weight of his title. He felt like for the first, maybe in his whole life, the crowd was cheering for him and his skill, not his station. When he was competing, it didn’t matter that the blows were a little harder than they normally were, or that the man playing his face was kind of an idiot. All that mattered was the horse between his thighs, the lance under his arm, and the opponent flat on his back in the dirt.

He charged into the tent and peeled off his helmet, handing it off the the farmer in favor of pouring himself a cup of water. He ordered. “Go and acknowledge the crowd.”

“How do I do that?” the farmer asked, in that timid voice that made Arthur want to roll his eyes, charge out of the tent and end this facade. Really, how anyone would believe this man could be a knight was ridiculous.

“You wave. They cheer. It’s not difficult.”

He saw the other man do a practice wave and leave the tent.

“I do all the work. Someone else gets all the praise.” He said, taking a huge drink to soothe his aching throat.

“I know the feeling.” Merlin muttered, closing the tent flap.

That little comment grated on Arthur’s nerves, reminding him of all the ways he’d needed Merlin’s help. How useless he actually was compared to the delusions of grandeur he’d built up in his head. He pushed all that away, now was not the time, and said, “When I win the tournament, I’ll reveal my true identity. Get the credit I deserve.”

“Yeah. of Course you will.” Merlin said. It was a subtle dig that he would’ve missed had he not known about Merlin’s magic. He thought he was a better man than Arthur because he saved the day and never took any credit for his actions. But Arthur knew, and he heard the derision in Merlin’s tone which only served to piss him off even more.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me off with my armor.” He sauntered over, tone mocking. If Merlin wanted to snicker behind his back too then he would make him pay for it. “And remember to polish it before tomorrow. The horse needs grooming and don’t forget to repair the broken lances.”

 |||

“Guinevere.” Arthur called as he closed the front door behind him. He saw her rushing around on the other side of the room with a broom so he started toward her. “Have you got a needle and thread? My shirt needs mending.”

“Um…” She said, still pushing the broom around. As he came around the screen, he saw what looked to be a pile of canvas sacks and a old worn blanket tossed over them.

“Is this where you sleep? Where’s your bed?” He asked. Really the space wasn’t fit for anyone to sleep in. He looked around, trying to find some other explanation when she spoke cautiously.

“You’re sleeping in it.” Her words were spoken calmly but with an obvious edge and realization settled over him.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“How could I?” She asked with a tense smile. “You’re prince Arthur.” His smile fell away as he looked at her. “Besides,” She continued with a shrug.” You didn’t give me the chance. You just assumed the bed was yours.”

“How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?” His disappointment colored his words. He really thought he and Guinevere could’ve been friends, but how could they be if she wouldn’t even speak up to him?

“You shouldn’t need to be told to think of someone other than yourself. You’re not a child.” She said in a rush and looked horrified that the words had come out.

But then maybe they could. “Is there anything else you’d like to say to me?” He asked, willing her to say everything she’d been bottling up. “Please…I’d like to hear it. If there’s something you want to say to me, don’t let me stop you.”

She looked at him for a moment, unsure, before she made up her mind, set her chin and asked, “You don’t have any idea, do you?”

“About what?”

“About how rude and arrogant you can be.” She said. The way she said the words, like it hurt her more to say them than it hurt him to hear them made it easier. “This is my home and you are my guest in it. I know you are used to more luxurious quarters, but that is not an excuse to be so rude. You claim titles don’t matter to you but you behave like a prince and expect me to wait on you like a servant. Saying it means nothing if your actions betray you. Would it kill you to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ once in a while?” Her chest was practically heaving by the time she was finished, her breath heavy. After a moment, she seemed to remember herself and tacked on “My lord” as if it would make any of what she’d just said to him more proper.

“Is there anything else you’d like to add?” He asked, feeling a little sick, but he couldn’t fight off that little smile because finally, finally, someone was being honest with him and not just telling him what they thought he wanted to hear.

“No, I think that’s it.” She looked down, cheeks flushed.

He really should’ve thought it through before opening those floodgates but now that everything was out, he felt so much better. And so much worse at the same time. Had he really acted that poorly? He thought back to his actions. Demanding food, commandeering her bed, sending her to fetch water to bathe late at night.

“You’re right.” He said, and her head raised a bit and she watched him closely.“You have invited me into your home and I have behaved appallingly.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” She said. Though he could see the triumph in her eyes.

“Oh really?” He laughed to himself.

“Perhaps a little.” She smiled sheepishly.

“There’s no excuse. I’ll make it up to you. Tonight, I will make dinner for you.” The idea came to him suddenly but once he thought of it, he knew it was a good one. If he and Gwen were going to be friends, he needed to level the playing field. He needed to stop acting like ‘prince Arthur’ and wait on her for a change.

“You’re going to cook me dinner?” She asked as he pushed her toward the door.

“I most certainly am. Now, go for a walk, or do whatever it is girls do at this time of the evening.”

“A walk would be nice.” She interjected and he kept guiding her out the door, barely giving her time to grab a wrap.

“Your dinner will be ready when you return.” He promised, closing the door. It wasn’t until he was alone in Gwen’s kitchen that he realized what a bad plan this actually was. He had no idea what he was doing. He’d never cooked a thing in his life. He was only going to pull this off by a miracle of some kind or- “Merlin. Thank god.”

His servant stepped through the door with a dubious look that was either at the way Arthur was just handling the raw chicken or the way he’d just sighed his name. Either didn’t really work in his favor, so he pushed to his feet and went over to Merlin.

“Gwen says you’re cooking.” Merlin said, looking between Arthur and the chicken with a look of confused disgust but Arthur ignored that and plowed ahead.

“Fetch me two dinners from the palace kitchens.” He ordered.

Merlin still had that stupid look on his face when he asked, “So you’re not cooking?”

“No.” Arthur said with his tone that meant obviously not you idiot. “Gwen doesn’t need to know that. As far as she’s concerned, dinner will have been prepared and cooked by me.”

“Are you trying to impress her?” Merlin asked, something sharper in his tone that Arthur couldn’t place.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. And get me a decent shirt, will you? Your clothes are making me itch all over. It’s like having fleas.” He hated the tunic Merlin had leant him so he could blend in with the common people but he would never tell him why. Sure it was scratchy, but Arthur could’ve dealt with that. What he couldn’t deal with was the smell of Merlin’s soap hanging around and the lingering scent of him that clung to the fabric and fogged up Arthur’s brain at the most inconvenient times.

 |||

As if he hadn’t had enough to haunt him, now he had the ghost of Odin’s son looming over him. Arthur hadn’t wanted to kill the boy but now he had to live with the guilt. Not to mention the threat of an assassin. He was trying to be composed and compassionate and he gave Gwen her bed back but the thought of sleeping on the floor on top of all the stress he was under just made him angry. So when he was out of Gwen’s ear shot, he leaned in close and ordered Merlin to fetch him the mattress from his quarters. 

“How am I supposed to carry a mattress all by myself?” Merlin asked and Arthur almost snapped _Why don’t you use your magic?_

But he bit his tongue and hissed instead, “I don’t know. Strap it to your back.”

The distance he put between them was purposeful. Arthur needed to be sure that his magic wasn’t going to consume him before he could fully trust him again. He didn’t know how long that was going to take. Merlin had yet to act against him in any way and according to Gwen Arthur had been acting like an even bigger prat than usually. He didn’t know what else to do. He just wanted to know why.

Why would Merlin stay with him for so long? Why would he put up with all the crap Arthur put him through? Why would someone powerful enough to vanquish the greatest sorcerer Camelot has ever known, Cornelius Sigan, ever be content to serve someone like Arthur? It didn’t make any sense, and that was the worst part of it all. He wanted so badly to have answers to his questions wasn’t ready to ask yet. He wasn’t ready for what the answers would be.

Arthur shifted on the threadbare mattress for what felt like the thousandth time in the last few minutes. He hadn't been able to get to sleep until late the night before and was woken early by racing thoughts that wouldn’t even give him the peace and escape of sleep. His thoughts were mostly on Merlin but he caught them straying to Gwen every now and then.

The way she had scolded him for lying about dinner. He felt like an ordinary man in that moment being nagged by his wife. He was just Arthur then. It was that feeling he was chasing when he kissed her before he left for the tournament. She’d said something about how after that morning, he’d go back to being Prince Arthur and it came crashing to him that their time would be over. He would never get a chance to feel this way again. A normal man with normal feelings for a normal woman. The kiss had been long and slow and it played through his mind over and over again while Merlin pieced together his armor.

 |||

He was almost felled when Sir Alynor’s lance pierced his armor. He didn’t even think it was possible for a brittle piece of wood to break through a plate of armor and a layer of chainmail. But it had and gods did it hurt. He didn’t have a choice but to ride the second round, even though he could barely hold the lance, keep his eyes open and stay upright. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, riding headlong toward the opponent.

All at once, he felt a warmth around him like a gentle breeze in the summer or a blanket in the dead of winter. It was a familiar feeling. Only now did he recognize it though, what he’d always written off as adrenaline, it was Merlin’s magic. Keeping him upright on his horse’s back, keeping the lance aimed steady at his opponent’s chest, keeping him alive.

The thundering collision rattled his bones and he slipped a little further into darkness. He felt the horse come to a stop and he was falling, straight into waiting arms holding him up and guiding him back to the tent. It was Merlin. Of course, it was Merlin.

“You were jousting against the assassin.” Merlin explained. “He killed Sir Alynor and took his place.” He glanced at the farmer, Gwen, then out the tent before looking back to Arthur. The cheering and shouts had yet to die down. “The people are waiting for their champion. It’s time to reveal yourself.”

Arthur looked at Merlin for a long moment and sighed. How could he go out there and take credit for a victory that wasn’t really his? Again. How could he ever look Merlin in the eye again if he took the spotlight from the farmer? His servant had just saved his life again, and expected nothing for it. Not a word of praise or gratitude.

“You must go and collect the trophy.” Arthur told William, quickly before he could change his mind.

“I though this was going to be your moment of glory?” Gwen asked hesitantly. Arthur swallowed and nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on her so they didn’t stray where they really wanted to rest on Merlin. “Perhaps this is a time for humility.”

 |||

It felt surprisingly good to see William atop his horse, waving the lance around victoriously while the crowd cheered for him. This was probably the closest this farmer would come to a moment of glory and it was nice to see the way his eyes lit up like that.

For the first time, Arthur felt like he might have an answer to all the questions about Merlin he was too afraid to ask.

 

 

 

 


	3. Carnage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana was gone. She had disappeared after a fire and a bout of shattering glass, which Arthur was almost positive wasn’t lightening. That little bit he kept to himself. Even if it was magic like he suspected, he didn’t want to raise the idea to anyone in case it started rumors. Rumors that there was magic in Camelot is a little too close to the truth for comfort.

Arthur had been going to find Merlin when he came across him in the hallway, in a part of the castle he had no reason to be. What piqued Arthur’s curiosity was Merlin’s arms flying behind his back the moment he saw him.

“Merlin, I need you to…” Arthur began but he couldn’t let it go. “What are you hiding?”

Merlin showed both his hands and Arthur had to fight not to gawk. Was Merlin really stupid enough to use magic right in front of him? Just to levitate some object? Was whatever was behind his back that much of a secret?

He caught a glimpse of the flowers just as Merlin entered the stairwell, and it made his stomach twist in a weird way but he dismissed it and went back to work.

|||

So he tried to dismiss it. He really did, but the next time he came into his room and Merlin was absently polishing his chainmail, the weird stomach twisty feeling returned.

“Are you sure this is all of them?” Arthur addressed Leon, trying to ignore Merlin for as long as he could.

“Names and last known dwelling places.” Leon confirmed dutifully. He cast a glance at Merlin then returned his attention back to his prince.

“My father suspects the fire was started by sorcery.” Arthur commented, peeking up for a moment to catch Merlin’s reaction. He only scrubbed faster.

“Indeed , sire. I’ve included the details of everyone we suspect of consorting with sorcerers, witches, or Druids.” Leon said. Merlin stopped the pretense of scrubbing all together and openly watched their discussion.

Arthur could feel his eyes on him when he said, “Gather the men. We’ll arrest them immediately.”

Leon nodded once again and left Arthur with Merlin who had taken up the scrubbing once again.

“I thought I told you to do that yesterday.” He said, gesturing vaguely at the chainmail.

“I didn’t have time. I was cleaning the stables.” Merlin’s lie was so stilted, Arthur cursed himself for ever having believed him.

“That’s strange, because a little bird told me you were somewhere else.” _With Morgana._

Arthur walked toward his wardrobe, pulling off his jacket. He let a little bit of bitterness seep into his voice, hoping Merlin would pick up on it. When he glanced back, Merlin was reading over the scroll of suspected sorcerers Arthur had purposely left in front of him.

“Mucking out the stables is strange and a talking bird isn’t?” Merlin asked, halfheartedly trying to engage him banter to distract him. He had to fight back a laugh. Then he remembered where Merlin had been and he didn’t have to fight so hard anymore.

Arthur turned back and made a big show of turning around this time as he said, “Merlin, what have we said about you trying to be funny?” The scroll rolled closed and Merlin looked at him innocently.

“I shouldn’t.” The bashful smile, a little guilty gleam around the eyes. It made Arthur lose his trail of thought for a moment, and when he found it, he could believe he’d never suspected this man of sorcery. He looked so…

“So where are my flowers?” Arthur asked, the bitterness returning.

Arthur heard the whisper of the scroll behind his back again and Merlin said, “Your flowers?”

“I heard Morgana got some.” And there was the root of his issue wasn’t it. Why he’d been storming around the castle for the last few hours after Gwen casually mentioned it. “I assumed you’d be putting them in all the rooms. Or is she the only one to receive a token of your affections.”

“Yes.” Merlin said and Arthur’s face lit up with thinly concealed jealousy he didn’t want to think about. Then Merlin went stumbling on, making it obvious it was true. “Uh, no, no. Uh, what? It’s not a token of anything. Affection or otherwise.”

“I see. So why were you trying to hide them from me yesterday?” Arthur turned away again, letting Merlin have one last good look at the scroll under the guise of finishing changing. Maybe he could save some people. Or maybe he’d be too busy fawning over Morgana. “So why were you trying to hide them from me yesterday?”

“I wasn’t…I was, I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

Why would Merlin care what kind of impression Arthur got about his love life? Was he trying to tell him something, or was it just Arthur’s imagination running away from him. “What’s the right impression?”

“That I was trying to cheer her up after the fire.”

“Pick them yourself?”

“Maybe.” Arthur nodded and Merlin was backpedalling with that bashful grin again. “I was only trying to be nice.”

Arthur just kept nodding, biting his tongue from what he really wanted to say. What came out was, “Sword.” He may or may not have been imagining running Merlin through.

Melin bent over to fetch it for him and, without his permission, Arthur’s eyes strayed over the line of his curved back and down. When Merlin was upright again, he dismissed him with a curt, “That’ll be all.”

“Merlin nodded and practically scurried from the room, leaving Arthur shaking his head. He went to retrieve the scroll but it wasn’t where he’d left it on the table. For a moment of blind panic he wondered if Merlin had taken it, but no, the clumsy oaf had just knocked it to the floor.

|||

Morgana was gone. She had disappeared after a fire and a bout of shattering glass, which Arthur was almost positive wasn’t lightening. That little bit he kept to himself. Even if it was magic like he suspected, he didn’t want to raise the idea to anyone in case it started rumors. Rumors that there was magic in Camelot is a little too close to the truth for comfort.

Things had changed between him and Merlin after the tournament. For all that he had nearly forgiven Merlin for lying to him, there was still an ounce of hesitation left in him to trust his servant. If Merlin was keeping something as big as magic secret, who knows what else he could be hiding.

But that was beside the point. Arthur knew Morgana was probably just frightened and needed to take some time away for herself. He usually went hunting, maybe Morgana had her own escape outside Camelot. Even if what happened in her room was magic, she seemed too frightened for it to be the start of some nefarious plot to usurp the sorcery-bashing Pendragon dynasty.

Uther was insistent that she had been kidnapped. He wouldn’t see reason, demanding everyone he’d arrested on suspicion of sorcery to be executed. Arthur had no choice but to obey. It was a long list, and Arthur was feeling kind of guilty knowing one name that wasn’t on it. He would never tell.

The next day the guard found the tunnel Arthur had helped the druid boy escape from. He knew he should’ve closed it, or tried to at least cover his tracks. But he hadn’t and it had come back to bite him. He had to stand around while his father and his men decided that this was the place Morgana had been kidnapped by the Druids. Of course it had to be the druids because the gate leading into the tunnels beneath the castle was ripped off by magic. Magic he hadn’t even known Merlin had at the time.

Arthur had no choice but to incriminate the strangers.

When his father disappeared in a flurry of red with the order of murder, Arthur turned to Gaius. “Where’s Merlin?”

He needed to tell him what was going to happen to the druids, maybe even send him to warn them.

“He’s uh, He’s not well.” Gaius said.

“He’s still upset about Morgana isn’t he?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask.

Gaius’ words didn’t make him feel any better. “We all are.”

“Tell him to stop pining, pull himself together, and get back to work.” Arthur said and turned away.

|||

The worst part about riding out against the Druids was probably the fact that Merlin wasn’t with him. The fact that he was in Camelot pining over a woman made it all the more difficult to bear, and he couldn’t explain why.

Why shouldn’t Merlin have feelings for Morgana? Beautiful and strong willed, one of the only people in the world to actually stand up to Arthur, courageous, and fiercely loyalty to friends. Slender, prominent cheekbones, with flawless pale skin and wavy dark hair. Plump, inexplicably full lips…

What’s not to love?

But Merlin was a servant, a magical servant in king Uther’s household at that. He couldn’t have affections for a nobleman er, noblewoman.

It was none of Arthur’s business anyway who Merlin had a thing for. He was on a rescue mission. He had to start making preparations for when they arrive, not spend the whole trip thinking about Merlin.

This wasn't the first time he'd killed in his father's name. He’d done his duties perfectly well and enjoyed the company of his knights before that clotpole showed up. They looked too eager now, though. There was too much excitement in their eyes for the task ahead. All except Leon, who looked a little green but was too loyal to question the king’s orders.

When they found the Druid’s camp, Arthur had to will himself to speak, however reluctantly, “Remember the king’s orders. No prisoners.”

They charged in swinging swords an bearing dogs, driving mothers and children into the safety of the woods. He watched the carnage he led for a moment and caught sight of Morgana disappearing over the ridge with two cloaked figures. He pressed on after them calling for the knights to follow.

|||

The laughter among the knights stretched out into the cold night. Arthur’s skin was icy down to the bone but it didn’t have much to do with the night. He could still hear the screams of the druids as they fled from him. Innocent people he drove from their homes, fleeing in terror of the charge _he_ led.

He drew his cloak tighter around him.

Another peal of laughter drove him from his seat on the log by the fire and to the edge of the river where he could escape the revelry of his father’s men at least a little bit.

He wasn’t alone for very long. Loud, crashing footsteps tromped down the slight slope toward him until Merlin was beside him.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. They just sat on the edge of the stream and understood each other’s need for silence.

When they found Morgana, she was unconscious, resting against a rock beside the body of a slain druid. She had been quiet ever since. It wasn’t until a few hours later that Merlin came crashing into their camp with a dopey grin and saying something about how he knew Arthur wouldn’t last a day without him.

Arthur wanted to ask Merlin to do some small magic trick, like swirl the water around, or make some droplets float, just to reassure himself that he wasn’t his father. That he could see a bit of magic for what it really was and not what he wanted it to be. But he didn’t ask because Merlin was afraid of him too.

“I didn’t want to do this.” Arthur whispered. He wanted to keep it quiet so he could still deny it was ever said. The thought was treason, questioning the kings orders, disobeying them. But he needed Merlin to know more than he needed Merlin to not know that he questioned his father sometimes. “I never would’ve hurt those people.”

“You wouldn’t?” Merlin asked, even quieter.

“No.”

Merlin searched his eyes for a long time, his hand worrying at the fraying thread on the sleeve of his jacket. He was working himself up to say something, Arthur could tell even in the dark.

“My lord.” Leon called to him from a few feet away breaking the trance between them.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, trying not to let his frustration seep into his voice.

“Morgana is asking for you, sire.”

Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin a little longer, then stood to attend to his duties.

|||

Morgana was returned to Camelot the next morning, Arthur reassuring his father that he was right even if he didn’t really believe it himself. There was a small celebratory feast but she sat quietly for the whole night, speaking only to Gwen.

Merlin stayed dutifully by Arthur’s side. They didn’t speak any more about what was said the night before, but it was hanging in the air between them. He had been so close to saying something. Arthur wanted to try to get him to open up again,  but he didn’t know how. Thoughts of the day before swirled in his mind, making him tense and fidgety. He felt eyes on him as he paced the room, struggling with his own rage and guilt that bubbled over all at once.

“I killed all those people!” Arthur shouted, smacking a goblet from the table. It skittered across the floor with a loud clatter. “Doesn’t that make you angry? Doesn’t that make me a monster?”

He spun on his heel and watched Merlin, knowing this was the moment it would all break down. His eyes would snap gold and he would incant a spell damning Arthur to hell. Cursing him for slaughtering Merlin’s people. But Merlin just furrowed his brow in concern and asked gently, “Arthur?”

He groaned and paced to the bed, hands tugging at his hair to vent some of his frustration. “Why aren’t you angry?”

Merlin didn’t say anything. He approached Arthur cautiously, like he would an injured animal, with his hands raised in a placating gesture that only made him more angry. Arthur almost shrugged off the tentative hands that came to rest on his shoulders but the pleading look in Merlin’s eyes stilled him.

“What is this about?” Merlin asked, his voice low and soothing, unlike Arthur had ever heard it before.

“I killed them all. Doesn’t that make you hate me?” He breathed, voice broken.

“You wouldn’t have done it.” Merlin said, “You told me last night that if it was up to you, you never would’ve hurt those people.”

All the strength seeped out of Arthur at his words. Merlin held him up easily, and guided his weight to the mattress behind him. He slumped back and let himself be cared for, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. Not from Merlin, not after what he’d done. He closed his eyes against the rush of it all. Holding back all the words that wanted to spill out. Confessions, apologies, pleas for forgiveness. He rolled over and tried to ignore Merlin, instead, the sound of him blowing out each candle one by one lulling him to sleep.

|||

Merlin was standing in the dark. It wasn’t really dark, there were a few candles scattered about Arthur’s chambers. So Merlin was standing in warm flickering light giving his pale skin a rich complexion. He looked to be speaking but Arthur couldn’t make out the words.

He smiled then, looking at the floor. A blush was creeping across his high cheekbones and Arthur felt a fluttering warmth low in his stomach, sure without knowing why that he’d caused that look. His smile was an odd mix of embarrassed and coy that Arthur had only ever seen on maidens. But when his eyes flicked up to Arthur’s without lifting his head, it turned positively impish.

He kept his eyes on Arthur when he shrugged off his jacket with slow, smooth movements. He’d never seen Merlin move so fluidly. All he could do was watch in awe as Merlin’s jacket slipped from his fingertips to the floor behind him. Then those fingers, slender impossibly long fingers, moved to his neckerchief.

Arthur was sure there was no sensual way to remove it, proven right when a tuft of Merlin’s hair was left sticking straight up. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the other man’s straining neck, muscles prominent under the skin like whipcord.

He was very aware of his breathing all of a sudden, the heavy, slightly shaky rhythm picking up as Merlin’s hands slid down his chest. Deft fingers unfastened the buckle of his belt and it clattered to the floor on top of his Jacket.

Arthur’s instincts told him to run, his nerves straining, when Merlin took a step toward him and out of his boots. Swallowing thickly, he tracked the other man’s hand as it neared his own chest. When skin touched skin, a spark shot down Arthur’s body. Merlin’s fingers slid from the skin just above the hem of his shirt, under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders.

The sudden rush of cold was nothing compared to the heat that was rushing through Arthur’s veins now. His hands were working at Arthur’s belt. A wrist grazed his groin and his head dropped back, a quick breath breaking free. Arthur’s shirt was cast aside by warm hands and when he lifted his head again, Merlin was inches away. The heat from their bodies mingling in the air between them.

“Merlin…” Arthur breathed, promising, pleading.

He smiled, all teeth and bright eyes and Arthur was flooded with a warmth that had everything to do with where Merlin’s hand was teasing at the top of his pants. A hand laced through his hair, dull nails dragging against his scalp, sending a shiver down his body. His own lips grazed against feverish skin and Merlin moaned his name.

His breath quivered in his throat and his hands reached out, grasping narrow hips.

“Arthur.” Merlin groaned again, teeth grazing at the edge of his ear.

The hot hand against his shoulder was enough to jolt him awake. Coming face to face with a fully clothed Merlin in the bright morning light, Arthur sucked in a huge breath and tried to calm his frantic heart.

“Morning!” Merlin said cheerfully, going over to the table to spread out breakfast. “You look a little flushed, are you feeling alright?”

“Fine.” Arthur attempted, but it came out thick and broken. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked, “Because if you’re feeling sick I can go get Gaius.”

“I’m fine.”

Merlin looked him over again and nodded, “Alright then. You have a council meeting today.”

He lingered in the room for another minute, then slipped into the hallway to attend to more of his duties. When his manservant was gone, Arthur slumped back into bed and buried his face in his hands. Whatever the hell that was, Arthur vowed never to think of it again. That is, until Merlin came into the room and Arthur’s eyes were drawn to his flushed lips. 

 


	4. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why can’t you just admit your feelings for Gwen?”  
> Arthur scoffed and walked away but he heard Merlin call to him. “It’s so obvious. A blind man could see it. Is it really that hard to admit that you like her? ”  
> Arthur did care about Gwen but there’s only one person he thought about an annoying amount. Couldn’t get out of head actually. And the longer he tried to ignore why that was, the more it was becoming obvious.

Arthur told himself the dream was stress-induced. That his subconscious was trying to give him a secret message that had absolutely nothing to do with Arthur actually wanting Merlin to strip down to nothing in his chambers and moan his name against his skin.

He jolted and forced his thoughts back to a safer course. Morgana had not been herself since she returned from the druids. He’d seen her off that morning on a pilgrimage to her father’s grave. She was pale and withdrawn, looking around guiltily, and jumping at sudden loud noises. He hated to see her this way, as a shadow of her former self and he knew it was because of what happened in her room a few weeks ago.

If Morgana had magic…

Arthur didn’t know what he’d do. He was raised from birth knowing that magic was evil and those who practiced it weren’t any better but he didn’t really believe that. Not wholly. Not deep down. The emergence of magic in Morgana terrified her, he could tell. How could he ever think that haunted look in her eye was evil or anything more than fear? No, Morgana wasn’t evil and neither was Merlin as far as he could tell, but his father’s words, words that had been echoed to him his whole life, invaded his mind.

_Magic corrupts the mind of even the strongest man._

He trusted his father’s wisdom but the older he was getting, the more he realized how fallible his father was, blinded by hatred and grief. How much did Uther Pendragon really know about magic? How ever much that was, Arthur knew even less.

He was never going to reach a conclusion by thinking this to death. He needed to talk to someone with more knowledge on the issue than him, someone he could trust, someone discreet.

A few minutes later, Arthur stood outside the door to the physicians chambers. He wasn’t sure if he should knock or walk straight in. All of a sudden he couldn’t remember what he’d done every other time he’d come here. Looking guiltily over his shoulders to make sure the corridor was empty, he knocked gently, partially hoping no one heard.

Merlin pulled open the door and Arthur could’ve kicked himself for forgetting the other man lived here. He’d been actively avoiding him for two days, trying to make it look as though he wasn’t.

“Arthur!” Merlin greeted, surprise coloring his tone. “I was about to go groom your horse. Did you need something?”

“I came to see Gaius actually.” Arthur said, looking over his shoulder to see the physician tinkering with one of his apparatuses.

“Right.” Merlin said, and Arthur wasn’t sure if he detected a hint of disappointment in the other man’s tone. He pushed the door open wider to allow Arthur to step through. “I’ll see you later then.”

Arthur didn’t say anything and tried very hard not to watch him walk away. He closed the door and waited for Gaius to acknowledge him.

“Arthur. Is there something I can help you with?” Gaius asked, putting down his magnifying glass in favor of picking up a potion and eyeing the newcomer.

He didn’t really know what he was doing here, or what he wanted to say now that the moment had come. There was a lot of shuffling and fidgeting but Arthur eventually managed to ask, What would you do if you found out someone closed to you had magic?”

Gaius’ head shot up and he eyes Arthur for a long time. He felt like he was being measured, and not for the first time, Arthur wondered what was going on in the old man's head.

“You’ve been a trusted advisor of my father’s since before I was alive.” Arthur continued, and Gaius nodded. “If you found out someone you trusted had magic, would you turn them in, or would you try to help them?”

Gaius stayed silent and he realized it was because the other man didn’t want to reveal more information that he knew Arthur had. So Gaius knew about Merlin, then. Maybe even Morgana. He’d been treating her nightmares for years.

“I don’t think the fire in Morgana’s chambers was caused by lightening.” Arthur said, leveling his gaze with Gaius’ suddenly understanding one.

“What would you do, sire?” Gaius asked, arching that legendary eyebrow at him. He was being tested, he knew. He wanted nothing more than to pass.

“If she had magic?” Arthur asked, and continued when Gaius nodded. “I would protect her. Maybe try to find someone who could help her figure out what’s happening to her.”

Gaius nodded again and set down the vial he still clutched in his hand. He came around the table and gestured for Arthur to take a seat at another nearly empty table. They sat across from each other letting the silence settle in around them, letting some of the tension fade away.

“Morgana went to the druids after the fire to seek guidance.” Gaius said, watching Arthur’s face fall.

“And I dragged her back.” Arthur sighed.

“Unfortunately, yes. Morgana is what’s known as a seer. Visions of the future come to her in dreams. The fire was the first incidence of which I’m aware that her magic manifested itself physically, causing the window to shatter and the fire.”

Arthur nodded, rubbing his hands over his face, letting all the new information sink in. Then a thought occurred to him. “Does Morgana know that you know?”

“No.” Gaius said, eyes dropping to the table. “I believed it would be safer for her if she did not know she has magic. I believed it would be easier to hide from the king this way.”

“Hiding doesn’t really seem like an option anymore.”

|||

“Is everything alright?” Merlin asked, as he served Arthur his lunch. The prince startled from his thoughts and looked around, seeing the steaming food for the first time.

“After what happened the other night, and you’ve been distant for the last few days, I just…” Merlin trailed off, shuffling around beside Arthur’s chair.

“I’m fine.” Arthur said unconvincing even to himself. He wasn’t ready to tell Merlin about his conversation with Gaius that morning. Chances are Merlin already knew, but Arthur was going to wait until he had sorted things out in his mind a little more before letting him in on it. Or at least that had been the plan Merlin just looked so _worried_ about him. More concerned for his well being than he had any right to. He was one of the only people in the world Arthur felt like he could say anything to and Arthur was tired of keeping secrets from him

He opened his mouth to tell Merlin all about Morgana but an insistent knock at the door cut him off before the words could come out.

|||

Morgana had been kidnapped. Actually kidnapped this time and the whole guard of knights Arthur had sent with her were dead. He found her stumbling through the woods in only her slip, face bruised and looking worse for wear but she was alive. Gwen was gone.

He knew his father was a practical man in most respects, had always admired that about him. But looking at him now, the way he so easily turned his back on a member of the royal household, who had sacrificed herself to help Morgana escape no less, it made Arthur fume. Sure it wasn’t practical to risk the lives of however many knights to save one servant but who needed practical right now? Guinevere was a citizen of Camelot, one who loyally served the Pendragons for years. Turning their backs on her would only serve to prove to the people that their monarchs did not care for them enough to try to save them. How much good will would that lose?

Gwen was a citizen of his kingdom and his friend beside the fact. Arthur wasn’t going to leave her in the hands of those savages knowing he could save her.

This side of his father he was seeing was anything but new. This was the side Morgana saw. Why she kept her dreams from him, why she flinched every time he spoke of sorcery. This side of Uther wouldn’t hesitate to condemn Morgana for her ‘betrayal’. Wouldn’t regret it even as they washed her ashes off the stones in the square.

|||

 

He really was a complete idiot, wasn’t he?

“What are you doing Merlin?”

Merlin looked up at him stupidly from his place in the bushes, his horse with a now-empty saddle trotted right on by. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

It was a wonder Arthur ever saw him as a threat.

“I’m so exhausted.” He sighed, laying his head back down on the ground, eyes slipping closed. Arthur remedied that quickly enough by emptying the contents of his canteen over his head.

Merlin bolted upright again and said, surprisingly cheerfully. “Thank you. I feel so much better.”

“Guinevere’s life is at stake.” Arthur reminded him, “We can’t waste a second.”

After a few hours of riding, he allowed them to stop for a while to rest. Merlin fell asleep against the trunk of a tree almost immediately and even though the ground was soft and the afternoon warm, Arthur lay awake. He watched the trees sway in the gentle breeze, revealing bits of the blue sky between leaves. It should’ve been relaxing, but all Arthur could focus on was the sound of Merlin’s steady breaths as he slept and the little hitch at the end that would turn into a small snore if he inhaled too much.

He wanted to punch the other man to get the noise to stop, but he also had the urge to roll over and watch the rise and fall of Merlin’s chest. He glanced over and saw Merlin’s mouth hanging open slightly, lips making a small o. His eyes strayed there and stayed, tracing the pink curves, and darting up to his closed eyes to watch the way his dark eyelashes fanned over his pale cheekbones.

Arthur quickly got impatient of waiting and the tense silence hanging around him, so he upended all the water in his canteen over Merlin’s head again, taking a moment of enjoyment for himself to watch the other man sputtering awake.

“Oh, what’s happening?” Merlin looked around but Arthur didn’t answer him, just returned to the horses. “How long was I asleep for?”

“Long enough.”

“Did you get some rest?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Arthur answered honestly. He fiddled with the saddle of his horse, waiting for Merlin to gather himself and get ready to head out again.

Instead, he stayed seated against the trunk of the tree and eyed Arthur suspiciously. “I’ve never seen you like this. About anyone.”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked, fumbling with his work. For a moment he thought Merlin had figured it out.

But Merlin simply replied, “Gwen.” and he knew his embarrassment was safe.

“You really care about her don’t you?”

“What I care about is not wasting anymore time talking. Let’s get moving.”

|||

 

They came out of the caves of Andor alive, much to Arthur’s surprise and were washing off the disgusting Gaia berries in nearby river. He couldn’t help but say, a little awed, “The gaia berries worked. Hmm.”

Merlin turned to him slowly then, rage thinly veiled, “You didn’t know if they worked?”

“Not for sure.” Arthur admitted. Finished with his washing, he stood and Merlin followed.

“Now you tell me? _Oh, what’s that wilderan eating?_ ” He said, imitating Arthur. Very poorly, Arthur thought. “ _It’s alright. It’s just Merlin_.”

Arthur laughed but Merlin went on. “You trying to get us both killed?”

“I’m sorry.” Arthur conceded. “I shouldn’t have risked your life like that.”

Merlin scoffed and shuffled his weight from foot to foot. “Well, they do say love makes you do strange things.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why can’t you just admit your feelings for Gwen?”

Arthur scoffed and walked away but he heard Merlin call to him. “It’s so obvious. A blind man could see it. Is it really that hard to admit that you like her? ”

Arthur did care about Gwen but there’s only one person he thought about an annoying amount. Couldn’t get out of head actually. And the longer he tried to ignore why that was, the more it was becoming obvious.

He couldn’t eat without knowing Merlin was there to refill his goblet. He couldn’t sleep without the other man starring in his dreams. They weren’t unpleasant dreams by any measure but it was still disconcerting to wake with Merlin’s name on his lips and his body throbbing.

There wasn’t anyone he could talk to about this. No one he considered a close enough friend. He wishes he could talk to Merlin about it but he couldn’t very well talk to Merlin about Merlin now could he? Well, maybe he could. Merlin was so sure that Gwen was the center of his whole world, maybe Arthur could…

“Just say it!”

“I can’t.” Arthur turned to face him. It was too late to change his mind now. So he let everything he’d been thinking about for the last week pour out of him all at once. “How can I admit that I think about _her_ all the time? Or that I care about _her_ more than anyone? How can I admit that I don’t know what I’ll do if any harm comes to _her_?”

Arthur looked away, embarrassed, sure that Merlin would see right through his little charade and hear what Arthur was really saying.

“Why can’t you?” Merlin asked gently.

“Because nothing can ever happen between us!” Arthur burst out, forgetting about his code and just letting go of everything that had been weighing on him without even realizing it. “To admit my feelings, knowing that…It hurts too much.”

“Who’s to say nothing can happen?” Merlin asked and Arthur almost smiled at the optimism in his voice.

“My father won’t let me rescue a servant. You honestly believe he’d let me marry one?” Arthur asked.

“You want to marry Gwen?” Merlin burst out almost immediately and Arthur’s eyes blew wide as he realized what he’d just said.

“No! No, I-” Arthur backpedalled, stumbling over his words, cheeks flaming because he’d just accidentally admitted to wanting to marry him and Merlin had no idea. “I don’t know. I-”

Merlin put his hands up in a placating gesture and Arthur took a deep breath, trying to bring his pulse back down to a normal rate. He looked back at Merlin and seeing him there, completely supportive like he always was, it just made Arthur sad. He sighed, “It’s all talk. And that’s all it can ever be.”

“When you’re king, you can change that.” Merlin said and Arthur wanted to smile again.

But there was still that lingering weight in his chest because Merlin would never wait that long for him. “I can’t expect Guinevere to wait for me.”

“If she feels as you do,” Merlin said, walking over to stand beside him. “She’ll wait for you.”

Arthur could hear the smile in his voice. Maybe he was losing his mind but he couldn’t help but think maybe Merlin was speaking in code as well.

“We don’t even know if she’s still alive.” Arthur said, reminding Merlin of the deadline looming over head and reminding himself to stay away from that kind of hope. It would only hurt more in the end. Besides, they didn’t have time to stand here and exchange coded messages about their feelings. He’d meant what he’d said about rescuing Gwen and he was going to do it.

“Yes she is.” Merlin insisted. Even though it didn’t have the affect on Arthur Merlin was going for, he still appreciated that the other man was standing there trying to make him feel better, even after all the prattish things he’d done today. “We will find her.”

“Come on.” Arthur said, shifting his mind back to the mission at hand. But there was just one last thing he needed to say before he left the whole conversation at this river bank. “Oh and Merlin. If you dare tell anyone about this. I promise I will make your life a living hell.”

“More than you already do?” Merlin asked and Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. Even when he was threatening him, Merlin was still trying to make Arthur feel better.

He buried his smile and said, “Yeah” before heading off again.

“We could talk about your feelings while we walk.” Merlin called after him

“Shut up, Merlin.”

|||

Rescuing Guinevere had been surprisingly easy. All it took was scaling the walls, knocking some heads together, and escaping through the tunnels. He had been surprised to find Lancelot with her but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Arthur had been fond of Gwen for as long as he had known her. She alone making Morgana’s presence bearable. But things had changed since he’d stayed with her during the tournament. She wasn’t just Morgana’s maid anymore. She was a friend. Not the only servant to ever tell him off, there was still Merlin, but the experience was still so novel it was intoxicating. His affection for her sparked from the way he felt when he was with her. Like he didn’t have to be royal, he could just be himself.

But his feelings were selfish, he knew. He wasn’t in love with Gwen, not the way Lance so obviously was. He was in love with the idea of her. In love with everything she could give him. Love, acceptance, normalcy. But he couldn’t be an ordinary man, and he knew he couldn’t love her the way she deserved.

So he shoved up from his place on the ground and ran after Lance, catching him by the arm to stop him before he disappeared from their lives again.

“I want you to come back to Camelot.” Arthur said, his voice low, careful not to wake Merlin and Gwen. “I can guarantee you a position as a knight.

“You have feelings for Guinevere.” Lancelot said as if that was all the explanation there needed to be. When Arthur just arched and eyebrow, he shifted suddenly the certainty in his voice gone. “Don’t you?”

Arthur looked away, gathering his thoughts before turning back to Lancelot. “Guinevere and I had a fleeting moment but I can’t be the kind of man she needs. My father would never allow us to be together and it would be selfish of me to try to keep her. She still loves you, Lancelot, very much. I can tell and I can tell you love her just as strongly.”

Lancelot looked at him uncertainly for a long time before Arthur rolled his eyes and huffed out, “Don’t make me command you.”

Lancelot smiled then looking back at Arthur with something that looked like admiration in his eyes. “You are sure?”

“Completely.” Arthur assured him.

“You’re a good man, Arthur Pendragon.” Lance said, bowing low, “I would be honored to serve you.”

Arthur patted a hand on his shoulder and held on as he guided Lance back to their camp, feeling strangely light.


	5. Catrina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all at once Arthur remembered why he liked having Merlin around. He cut straight through all the secrets and stress and everything that had been weighing on his mind, somehow managing to know exactly how Arthur felt and exactly what to say to make him feel better. Arthur laughed deeply for what felt like the first time in ages. “She’s not that bad.”  
> “I’m being serious. She’s an actual troll.”  
> “That’s enough, Merlin.” Arthur said, cutting off any arguments. “She’s the future queen of Camelot whether you like it or not. So you better get used to it.”

It didn’t take much convincing on Arthur’s part to get his father to knight Lancelet. Uther was so enthralled with their new guest Lady Catrina of Tregor. All he had to say was that Lancelot saved his life, again, and Uther waved his sword around and deemed him a knight, never taking his gooey eyes off of Catrina.

He’d been forced to sit through dinner with her, his father, and Morgana but he excused himself at the earliest possible moment. He’d never seen Uther so besotted. There was only so much thinly veiled flirting that he could be subjected to without losing his mind or his food.

|||

Arthur was awakened in the middle of the night but a cold breeze rushing through the room and over his bare skin. He’d fallen asleep on top of the covers after an exhausting day of training. Several days of intense sword-work and hunting because it was easier to throw himself into the grueling physical labor than to let his mind linger on everything else that was going on in his life.

He wasn’t expecting to see Merlin standing at his window, slender shoulders and jaw dark slashes against the moonlight flooding in. For a moment, he thought it was another dream but then another cold gust of air grazed across his skin, racking him with one huge shiver down his spine and the sting of it was too real to be a dream.

“Merlin.” Arthur snapped. The shattered silence was accompanied by the sound of shattering glass far below. “I have no doubt, Merlin, that you have prepared a very good explanation for this.”

“Yes.” Merlin said, eyes wide and looking like he’d seen something truly horrifying and unexplainable. After a beat, he shook his head and said, “No.”

Really. It was bad enough that this man was not only the center of nearly every one of his waking thoughts but also his sleeping ones. But now Merlin was interrupting his sleep, standing in the dark of Arthur’s chambers coming far too close to resembling a dream the prince had a few nights ago but was staunchly refusing to recall to save himself from the flush that was pooling under his skin.

“Apparently I’m wrong.” he stepped forward to investigate more closely, shoving Merlin out of the way. He saw the broken bits of glass scattered on the ground below and an uncomfortable understanding settled over him. Turning back to Merlin, he didn’t bother to disguise his annoyance. “Please tell me you weren’t spying on Lady Catrina.”

“It’s not what it seems.” Merlin said frantically.

“Yes, It’s exactly what it seems.” Arthur snapped, not giving the other man a chance to defend himself. Honestly, he didn’t want to hear it. He closed the window and turned back to the other man who was looking between him and the window a bit desperately. “You’ve lived a sheltered life. You have no social skills whatsoever and Catrina is, I admit, and attractive woman. I understand completely.”

His voice was harsh but not as harsh as it could’ve been, tinged in disappointment as it was. Whether it was disappointment over Merlin’s actions or who the subject of his late night peeping was, Arthur didn’t want to think about it.

“And if I ever find you doing it again, I’ll feed you to the dogs. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes. Absolutely, sire.” Merlin said with relief. Grinning like the idiot he was.

Arthur shook his head as he watched the other man practically run out of the room. Of all the people for Arthur to have found himself charmed by…

|||

“Thank you all for coming. You are no doubt wondering why I have gathered you here today.” Uther addressed the assemblage gathered in the council chambers two days later. His voice was gentle, tinged with a softness Arthur had never heard from his father before. “Though we live in dark times, today I bring you light and love.”

Arthur had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as Uther turned to gaze into Catrina’s eyes. He saw out of the corner of his eye that nearby, Morgana and Gwen were looking on with perplexed amusement.

“It gives me the greatest pleasure to inform you that the houses of Tregor and Pendragon are to be united in the closest bond of all. I am to marry Lady Catrina of Tregor”

The words hit him like a blow to the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. The polite applause around him was stifling.

How could his father not have discussed this with him? Arthur knew that his father was his own man and it was his decision to make but surely he should’ve at least informed Arthur before telling the rest of the court, leaving him reeling and slightly sick but having to stifle it before the present company.

His father had been alone for so long. Arthur knew it wasn’t fair to expect him to spend the rest of his life in solitude, he never knew his mother. All he had of her were his fathers memories, and even though he never talked about them, Arthur knew his father remembered his mother fondly and often. But with a new wife, a new love to fill his memory, a love that brought him joy instead of pain, how would Ygraine’s memory ever survive. Arthur wasn’t even sure if it should.

Her death had driven Uther to outlaw magic and wage a war on an entire culture. Her loss had driven his bitterness and fueled his hatred. But what if new love softened his rough edges as it had softened his voice today. What if Ygraine fading was the only thing that would make his father more accepting of things he didn’t understand? Arthur didn’t know if the trade was worth it. He didn’t want to lose her, this mother that he had never known, not again. But maybe it was time for everyone to let go of the past and embrace a hopeful future.

Even if the Lady _Catrina_ was the one ushering it in.

The declaration stung, but Arthur obligingly joined in the applause when his father said, “I am to marry Lady Catrina tomorrow.”

|||

He pulled on his jacket and grabbed his sword as Merlin entered his chambers. He expected him to blurt out what he wanted, with no regard for proper titles or decorum as usual but when he stayed silent, Arthur turned to him, shoving his sword into it’s sheath and prompted, “Yes?”

He hesitated another moment but pushed on anyway. “Arthur. I’m going to tell you something. It’s not going to be easy.”

Arthur could tell he was trying to ease into a conversation-Maybe it was an apology about the other night, or maybe he wanted to get Arthur to talk about his feelings. It seemed he was always doing that-So he said just as hesitantly, “Right.”

“It concerns the Lady Catrina.”

Arthur gritted his teeth while he fastened his belt and said, “You’re not using my chambers to spy on her again.”

“No. Trust me. I saw everything I needed to see.” Merlin said with a little shiver in his voice that made Arthur want to throw something at him and call him a pervert.

“I’m sure you did.”

He spoke gently but firmly, steering the conversation back to where he’d originally intended it to go. “Arthur…She’s a troll.”

And all at once Arthur remembered why he liked having Merlin around. He cut straight through all the secrets and stress and everything that had been weighing on his mind, somehow managing to know exactly how Arthur felt and exactly what to say to make him feel better. Arthur laughed deeply for what felt like the first time in ages. “She’s not that bad.”

“I’m being serious. She’s an actual troll.”

“Merlin.” Arthur said, still smiling. “I know what you’re trying to do and I appreciate it, you’re a true friend, but it’s not about whether I like her or not. It’s about what makes my father happy. When they announced the wedding today, I realized that the Lady Catrina does just that, she makes him happy.”

“Well. He won’t be so damn happy when he finds out that his wife’s a fruit munching monster!” Merlin sneered.

“That’s enough, Merlin.” Arthur said, cutting off any arguments. “She’s the future queen of Camelot whether you like it or not. So you better get used to it.”

Arthur pushed past him and left the room, hearing his last words over and over again in his head. As he walked away, he knew that those words weren’t just for Merlin but for himself as well.

|||

He knew as soon as he’d heard the accusation that Merlin couldn’t possibly have stolen the Lady Catrina’s family seal. She was trying to stir up trouble for some reason and he was going to defend his friend but the thunderous look on his father’s face silenced him before he could speak. So he dismissed himself and headed the guard, leading the search for Merlin.

The stables, kitchens. He sent men to all the places he knew Merlin wouldn’t be and sent the knight he trusted the most to be fair, Leon, to Gaius’ chambers. But he had to find Merlin before anyone else did.

“You need to get out of here. The king’s ordered me to arrest you.” Arthur rushed, closing the door behind him.

Merlin looked up, clean bedding that he was changing still in hand, “What?”

“Catrina’s accused you of taking her seal.”

“But I didn’t.” Merlin implored him.

Arthur checked the corridor beyond the servant’s entrance to his chambers, and finding it clear, he turned back to Merlin. “I don’t want to know and you haven’t got time to explain. If you value your life, you’ll leave Camelot right now.”

“Ar-” Merlin stammered, as Arthur shoved him toward the door. “She is a troll. She’s trying to set me up.”

Arthur shook his head and shook off Merlin’s words. There was a clock looming over them, ticking down to Merlin’s capture and eventual demise. He could hear the echoes of the guards searching the palace. They didn’t have time for this. Even if he could wrap his head around something as ridiculous as his father unknowingly marrying a troll…Even if trolls actually existed…“We’ve been through this.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

But Merlin was so sure, and he was trying to tell him. His voice dripping with that sincerity that Arthur couldn’t help but believe. Then it must be true. But they didn’t have time for this now.

“I saw her!” Merlin insisted just as a knock sounded at the door.

“I don’t care. You need to leave, Merlin.” And why did it hurt so much to say those words. He saw the answering hesitation in Merlin’s eyes, the plea to just believe.

He didn’t have a chance to tell him. A voice at the door called his attention.

“Go.” Arthur urged, but when Merlin just looked at him, he shouted, “Go!” and watched his retreating back disappear around the corner.

|||

Arthur didn’t like deceiving his father. He also didn’t like seeing Catrina on a throne beside the king. So he found it in himself to lie. “I fear he may have slipped though our net.”

“You’re very quick to give up the chase.” Catrina said, and he knew he was right when he thought she was stirring up trouble.

“That is because I know he is long gone.”

“How can you be so certain?” Uther asked, amid his pacing.

“Despite appearances, Merlin isn’t stupid. He must’ve gotten wind that we were looking for him and left.”

“Outwitting your army in the process?” She had been in line to be queen for less than a day and already she spoke to him as if she’d held the position all her life. Spoke to him like he was something troublesome, or mildly irritating but not worth the effort of actual anger. It was a tone of disdain he was familiar with in his father but to hear it from this stranger all the while she spoke of condemning his friend made him clench his fists to keep from snapping something inappropriate.

“It appears so.”

“I thought your men aspired to the same high standards that my father instilled in you?” Catrina asked uther quietly but so obviously loud enough for the rest of the room to hear.

“When I led the army, they did.” Uther said, a small note of petulance in his voice at having earned his new wife’s disapproval.

Arthur shifted his weight and tried to finish this matter quickly. The longer his men were out looking for Merlin, the sooner they would find him. And there was no force on this earth to save him from Uther’s wrath. Well…No force that wouldn’t get him burnt at the stake. “We don’t even know if he’s still in Camelot. Could be anywhere.”

“And that’s a good enough reason to _give up?_ ” If Arthur hadn’t believed Merlin before that Catrina was a troll, he did now. The way her face distorted, her voice twisted into something ugly was proof enough. He’d had suspicions from the beginning that Uther’s fortune was part of the reason Catrina fancied him but now it was obvious. It wasn’t just the wealth she was after. She wanted the power that came with it. And she had power. Power over him, over the throne, and especially over Uther. Even if she wasn’t a creature disguising herself as a woman using magic, she still needed to be done away with.

 

|||

 

It was becoming increasingly obvious, especially with the levying of this unjust tax on the people. If his father were in his right mind, he would never ring the people dry this way, leave them with nothing, turn them against those who govern in such a way. But his father wasn’t in his right mind. He was in love and Arthur knew, better than he’d like, that love made you go a little crazy.

Knowing that his father wasn’t himself didn’t make in any easier, standing before his father in the council chambers and being publicly disinherited for protecting the people that he was born to lead. The shame in his father’s eyes was real enough to hurt. His words blunt enough to bruise deep beneath the skin.

To add insult to injury, Arthur was forced to stand in the first row of the crowd and watch as Lady Catrina was crowned Queen of Camelot. He was supposed to be listening but he really didn’t care anymore. Apparently it didn’t matter how hard he tried, or what he did, his father would never be proud of him. Never believe him fit to rule a kingdom.

He knew Catrina’d had something to do with Uther’s sudden shift in mood but the feelings were his own and they’d been there all along. Arthur had been trying to escape that disapproving frown for as long as he could remember, and he had yet to manage it. This, though…This was worse than anything Arthur had ever been subjected to. His father, declaring to the entire kingdom and all those beyond, that he would rather have a woman who he’s known for little over a week succeed him than his own son.

Arthur gave himself a little shake and tried to focus on what his father was saying, for the sake of propriety and respect if nothing else. The last thing he needed was to be seen daydreaming during an important ceremony. Uther was going on in that soppy voice about how wonderful Catrina is and how she’s going to be named as rightful heir to the throne and Arthur had to tune him out again for the sake of his own sanity.

How was he supposed to face his people after this? Gwen had said that the townsfolk were unspeakably grateful that he had tried to stick up for them and protect them from the tax collection that would’ve left them with less than nothing, but look where it had gotten him. Disinherited, renounced. When all he’d wanted to do was be the kind of leader his people deserved.

Where was Merlin when you needed him? With that ridiculous grin and the pep talks that were surprisingly insightful and wise for someone who trips over his own boots. He could really use his voice in his ear right about now. Merlin was sloppy and mouthy, perpetually late, and he cleaned Arthur’s chambers by shoving all the mess behind a trunk or in a corner. But if there were only two things in the world Arthur could count on him for, it was to call him names, and to remind him that no matter how bad things got, he would always be by his side because Arthur was destined for greatness.

He didn’t feel very great in that moment and without Merlin there, he’d never felt more alone. Magic or not, servant or not, Merlin was one of the closest friends Arthur had ever had. One of the only ones. Losing his father’s trust and his claim to the throne all in one day was taking its toll and Arthur just kept wishing Merlin would pop out of the woodwork and say something equal parts stupid and brilliant and make him forget that he’d just effectively been cast aside.

Catrina turning into an actual troll in the middle of the ceremony was a bit of a shock, but only so much as that Merlin was right again. He chased down his father who was chasing down Catrina who got cornered in a grand hall. Looking at her, seeing her for what she really was, knowing that this must’ve been what Merlin saw in that little mirror the other night, Arthur wished for Merlin even harder then. He wished he was here to help him deal with this crisis like he’d been there all the times before, hiding in the shadows but ready to save the day regardless.

 

|||

 

Face to face with Merlin in his chambers that night, Arthur wished he would crawl right back into the woodwork he came out of. His brilliant idea to save the day was to poison Arthur and make his father think he was dead so he would cry ‘tears of true remorse’ and it would break the curse. As much as he protested, he didn’t reveal nearly how much reluctance he felt toward this. The only thing that would be worse than his father being enchanted and controlled by a troll was going through with this plan and finding out the he wouldn’t have any true remorse at all if his son died. It wasn’t a test Arthur was ready to find out the results of. But there were a lot of things happening in his life that he wasn’t quite ready for.

When he found out that there was an antidote that had to be administered in half an hour or he would actually die, it only strengthened his resolve not to go through with this idiocy. But then Gaius handed Merlin the cure and Merlin was looking at Arthur with those wide, guileless, ‘don’t you trust me?’ eyes, and Arthur heard himself agreeing.

There was a small nagging voice of doubt in the back of his mind. Just another test, it warned him. Putting your life in the sorcerer’s hands again to see if his magic could be trusted. This would be the perfect time for him to strike would it not? With the king out of commission, all he would have to do would be to let Arthur die and he could return magic to Camelot, take the throne for himself. He was a powerful enough sorcerer, Arthur knew.

But he shook aside his doubts and downed the poison in a few swallows.

|||

When he woke again, his head was throbbing and the ground had changed. The gentle hand on the back of his head that had eased him to the floor when he fell asleep was still there though.

He remembered briefly waking up after he'd taken the poison, Merlin hovering over him with a pinched brow, and a slightly bitter taste on his lips. Across the room, the king was fighting with the troll and losing. He pushed to his feet and tried to help him, but Catrinasent him flying across the room with a single blow and his head collided with the stone wall.

He was lying on a different ground and now it was day. The light from the sun fell on him freely. Cocking open one eye, Arthur looked around and once again he was face to face with Merlin.

“You’re awake.” Merlin said simply and Arthur’s lip curled into a wry smile.

“Astute as ever, Merlin.” After a moment, his memories settled back to him and his smile faded. “What happened?”

Merlin’s hand on the back of his head shifted slightly but Arthur made no move to sit up or take his head from the other man’s lap. Instead, he stared up and watched him try to gather his words. He’d never seen him try so hard.

“Arthur…You’re father was killed.”


	6. Cascade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should hate him for all the lies, the power he wields, for what he was at his basest nature. Arthur couldn’t hate him even if he tried.

Arthur shoved upright, head reeling as he turned to face Merlin who sat crosslegged against a tree.

“What did you say?” He demanded, scrambling back. His hand flew to his waist, clutching for the weapon that wasn’t there. His attention snapped back to Merlin who had his own hands raised in that damn placating gesture, trying to calm Arthur like he was a cornered animal.

“Uther’s dead.”

“So this was your plan then?” Arthur snapped, hands scrabbling along the ground searching for anything to wield. His fingers wrapped around a large stick, and he lifted it threateningly in the space between them.

“What are you talking about?” He looked a mix of disappointed and confusion, but Arthur recognized the subtle note of fear in his voice.

“You got me to trust you so you could kill my father then drag me away to finish me off? Was that your brilliant plan? You can’t honestly believe the people of Camelot would ever accept you as a king. You might be a powerful sorcerer, but my people know better.”

“Arthur-” Merlin’s voice was pleading now, all traces of confusion and disappointment vanished, leaving only fear. Arthur wouldn’t hear it though. He wouldn’t give the other man a chance to talk his way out of this. And he could. A few words from him and Arthur knew he would be lost. But he couldn’t do that even though the clog of emotion welling in his throat made it hard to breath and the hurt in Merlin’s eyes made him want to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness for making him hurt.

“My father warned me that sorcery corrupts. I should’ve listened. I never should’ve trusted you.” Arthur said to Merlin as much as to himself. He could see the effect the words had on Merlin almost immediately. The pleading eyes hardened, his downcast mouth tightened, the shift from fear to anger was anything but subtle.

“Alright! Then why would I give you the antidote? I could’ve let the poison kill you and be done with it. I wouldn’t have bothered to drag your ass all the way out here to the middle of nowhere to keep you safe!” His fists clenched at his side, crushing dirt and leaves in his grip, mostly in attempts to keep them from swinging at Arthur. He wasn’t finished though. He shoved to his feet and stalked toward him. Arthur nearly stepped back when Merlin batted at the stick in his hand and snapped, “And If I’m such a nefarious and powerful sorcerer, what do you honestly expect to do with a stick?”

Arthur flushed with fresh anger at his words and took a swing at Merlin’s head. He was so preoccupied with the rush of emotions that the other man caught it easily enough and held on tightly as the stick turned to sand between their hands. Arthur hardly saw though, his eyes were fixed on the flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes fading back to cool blue. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him do magic, but it was the first time they were face to face when it happened. The first time that the magic was turned on him. He half expected a spell to hit him, but Merlin just held his eyes, letting the sand scatter at their feet.

“Go on then.” Arthur spat coolly.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Merlin sighed, eyes slipping closed as the air flooded from his lungs and ghosted over Arthur’s arms. “I would never...”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” He did take a step back then, unable to stand the proximity an longer. “Did you think I would turn you in? Do you really think so little of me?”

“No!” Merlin’s eyes flew open and he reached out but thought better of it just before their skin connected, pulling back. “I…Maybe I was a little scared but…There is nothing more important to you than Camelot. I know that and I never wanted to put you in a position where you had to choose between loyalty to a friend and your duty to the laws of Camelot. I guess I overestimated our friendship.”

“That’s not fair!”

“You were about to bludgeon me to death with kindling!” Merlin exploded, his arms flying out wide and Arthur felt a jolt of fear that dissipated almost immediately. He felt ashamed for the involuntary reaction. Merlin’d had ample opportunity to hurt him and if they were ever going to get past this, then Arthur needed to start believing him when he said he would never hurt him. He just couldn’t find it in himself yet.

Merlin sat down roughly against his tree, all the fight going out of him at that little flinch. His eyes were locked on his own hands, fidgeting in his lap. He looked up when he spoke, though. “He was killed in the fight against Catrina. She thought that it was the perfect time to seize the throne uncontested.”

Arthur took a deep breath and forced himself to speak. “Where are we?”

“In the forest on the outskirts of Camelot. Catrina cast a spell on the guards and made them believe that you were the one who killed Uther in a fit of rage for disinheriting you. You’re wanted for murder. I had to get you out of the castle.” By the time Merlin had finished, his voice had settled from resignation to calm determination and that Arthur appreciated.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“Two days.”

Closing his eyes, he took huge breaths trying to calm the jittering of his nerves beneath the skin. It wasn’t working.

“I was afraid I was too late and you wouldn’t wake up.”

All the anger he’d been clinging to drained away then. How this man, voice shaking with concern for him, could be a powerful sorcerer, Arthur had no idea. But he was, hunched over sitting there with downcast eyes, like he couldn’t stand to see  Arthur’s anger anymore. Arthur’s guilt slammed into him in a single swift blow because this was _Merlin_.

The man who faced evil spirits and assassins all alone. The man who lights fires in his hearth. The man who made him talk about his feeling when he really didn’t want to. The one who laughed when Arthur was trying to be threatening. The one who was by his side no matter what.

He should hate him for all the lies, the power he wields, for what he was at his basest nature. Arthur couldn’t hate him even if he tried.

|||

He couldn’t stand still for very long. Merlin tried to stop him from going, but Arthur ignored his protests, setting off for Camelot. He couldn’t think of himself. He had to think of the people who needed him now more than ever. Their king was dead, their prince missing, and their queen a troll.

“We don’t even have a plan!” Merlin shouted at his back as he trailed along behind him.

“I don’t need one.” Arthur called without looking back. “I’m the rightful king of Camelot. I’ll take my throne and kill anyone who tries to stop me, including that beast that killed my father.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Arthur waved a hand dismissively but Merlin wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. He caught up to the other man and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

Merlin waited until Arthur turned to face him to speak again, tone gentle, “By the law of Camelot Catrina was the heir to the throne. Now that Uther’s gone…”

“But she’s a troll!”

“Technically there’s nothing in the laws that forbids a troll from being Queen.”

“An oversight I’ll be quick to correct.” Arthur scowled. He considered shaking off Merlin’s hand and continuing his trek but the warm weight of it felt good and though he would never admit it, he reveled in the brief contact between them. God, when did he turn into such a lovesick puppy? 

“They have orders to kill you on sight.”

Arthur let out a sharp bark of mirthless laughter. “My knights would never take orders from a troll.”

“They’re not your knights anymore.” The words were spoken softly but they landed like a blow to the back, knocking all the wind from Arthur’s lungs and making his sure steps falter.

Two days. He’d been gone for two days. Could he really have lost his entire kingdom in such a short time? To a troll? To magic? He turned back to face Merlin, useless anger building inside him ready to be spent on an easy target. But he couldn’t blame Merlin. He couldn’t blame sorcery. No matter how much he wanted to. He wasn’t his father.

“Then what do we do?”

Merlin’s shoulders relaxed at his words and he took a couple steps to bridge the space between them. “We need some kind of plan. Wait until nightfall to return to the citadel, maybe. It’ll be easier to make it past any guards. We could find Gaius and figure out a way to break the enchantment on the people.”

“You’re right.” Arthur sighed, “We’ll wait for the cover of darkness.”

They decided to rest until nightfall. Arthur was reluctant to admit it, but he was exhausted. Every inch of his body was sore and he wondered if it was being nearly dead for so long, or if the tumult since he’d woken was starting to take it’s toll.

He settled into the space between two trees, large enough for both of them but close enough to offer them some cover. He felt weak without his sword. The sword wasn’t the only way he knew how to defend himself, he'd been trained to kill since he could walk, but he still felt bare without the familiar weight of iron beside him.

Since he'd learned of his father’s death, he’d been trying to push it away and focus on the conflict at hand. But now lying there with only the gentle sounds of the forest around him and Merlin’s even breathing to distract him, it came flooding to the forefront of his mind.

Uther was dead. It didn’t feel right to think it, almost like a betrayal but that didn’t make any sense. His father was gone. Struck down like he was any other man. Not a king, not a father. For all that he’d looked up to him, spent his entire life trying to make him proud, Uther was just gone. Like none of it had ever mattered. All that was left of the man was memory.

The memory of the last time he’d spoken to his father was the most prominent of all. When he'd been disinherited. The last thing he’d ever said to him, the shame.

“What if my father was right?” Arthur whispered, voice small in the growing darkness.

Merlin looked over but Arthur’s gaze was firmly fixed on the sky. “Right about what?”

He took a shaky breath. “That I’m not ready to be king.”

Arthur regretted the words immediately. How many times had Merlin called him arrogant? He wasn’t sure what kind of response he needed from Merlin at that moment but he had of way of teasing that was truth wrapped in humor. If Merlin tried to tease him now, it would probably kill him. Because he was arrogant, but he also couldn’t stop the nagging voice of doubt in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like his father. And maybe that voice was right, maybe Camelot would be better off if he never returned. He’d get that dream of running away that he’d never been able to let go of, and maybe if he asked nicely Merlin would come with him.

“Your father was enchanted when he said those things.” Merlin said, rustling the ground as he rolled over to face Arthur.

“She didn’t put those words in his mouth. The last thing he ever said to me…”

“Your father loved you Arthur. When he saw you lying there on the floor, when he thought you were dead…I’ve never seen a more broken man.” Merlin whispered.

It hurt to hear, to imagine his father that way moments before he was killed, but it also brought him a little comfort. Selfishly. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m not ready to be king. He knew it. The whole kingdom knew it when he disinherited me.”

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice grew stronger as he sat up. He finally tore his gaze away from the sky and turned to look at Merlin who was looking at him with such an expression of fierce determination that he was almost taken aback. The words settled over him as Merlin went on, “There is not a man in all of the five kingdoms who would make a better king than you.”

“That’s hardly true.” Arthur murmured, feeling a flush creeping up beneath his skin.

“No, it is.” Merlin insisted, leaning forward to stress the weight behind his words. “I know you Arthur. You’re fair, compassionate, a true friend of your people when you’re not being a total prat. You have a great destiny ahead of you and I’m going to be right by your side for all of it. You are going to be the greatest king this land has ever known and you will unite all of Albion.”

Arthur stayed silent, watching the fire burn in Merlin’s eyes.

He had kissed Guinevere one morning what felt like ages ago because she made him feel like a normal man. When he was with her, the possibilities of an ordinary life stretched before him and it made him happier than he thought anything ever could. When he was with her, he wasn’t a prince, he was just a man and that alone was enough to make him fond of her.

Everything was different with Merlin. The expectations were higher, the possibilities of his future narrowed down to one eventuality. But Merlin made him feel more than a man, more than a prince, more even than a king. _The greatest king this land had ever known._ He didn’t have to believe it himself, it was enough that Merlin did. When he was with Merlin, he was more than his crown but he was also more than the man and how Merlin managed to balance those two conflicting ideas of Arthur, he would never know. When he was with Merlin, he felt everything that he was, not just a man and not just a throne but both intertwined and inseparable. And Merlin had promised to be by his side for everything. That alone was enough to make him love him.

Closing the distance between them was the easiest thing in the world, like taking a huge breath of oxygen after being underwater too long. Their lips collided roughly but before he could pull away to apologize, Merlin’s hand cupped the back of his neck, holding him there.

Arthur sighed against his mouth at the feel of Merlin’s tongue tracing the curve of his bottom lip. _Finally_.

Merlin pulled away, sucking in a generous lungful of air. Resting his forehead against Arthur’s, he breathed, “I’m so glad you know about my magic, Arthur. I hated lying to you.”

Arthur brushed a gentle kiss again his lips, ignoring the pang of anger and hurt that went through him at the reminder, and smiled, “You weren’t very good at it.”

A laugh bubbled up through Merlin’s indignation. He tried to pull away, but Arthur wrapped his arms around his waist and held him against his chest. He put up a good fight for show but after a futile struggle and Arthur pressing his lips to his neck, Merlin gave up, settling into his embrace. They stayed that way for a long time, feeling the other’s heart beat against their skin and watching what was left of the light of the sun fade away.

A distant noise broke through the peace they had gathered around themselves. Arthur shoved to his feet, sending Merlin sprawling, and turned toward the sound of several voices screaming all at once. The citadel rose up over them, close enough that he had to crane his head to look up at it. And hovering above the castle with strokes of its massive wings, spewing flames on the innocent people below, was the Great Dragon.

 

 

 


	7. Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have a plan then?” Arthur asked.
> 
> Merlin grinned wryly and admitted, “Not as of yet. I usually make these things up as I go along.”

Arthur took off at a run toward the looming walls of the citadel, Merlin trailing behind knowing better than to voice his protests. He knew Arthur better than to believe he would put himself over the well fare of his citizens. He would go charging into the square, no regard for any consequences, and throw himself into the path of the dragon. With a fortifying breath, Merlin pushed himself a little further until he was close enough to Arthur to grab him by the arm and pull him to a stop.

They were just outside the gate, flung wide open to make evacuation easier, the shadows of a hulking beast flickered over them in frantic torchlight. The screams and sounds of chaos were deafening, the heat from the blanketing flames scalding. He couldn’t stand out here anymore, he had to go. Lucky Merlin only kept him long enough to whisper a few strange words, eyes to flash gold, and the weight of familiar armor settled around Arthur.

“The dragon is a creature of magic. You won’t be able to defeat it with mortal weapons but you can fend it off until I can figure out a way to stop it.” Merlin said. With a wave of his hands, a sword appeared in them outstretched for Arthur to take.

“You have a plan then?” Arthur asked as he took the unfamiliar sword and weighed it in his hands. It was perfect.

Merlin grinned wryly and admitted, “Not as of yet. I usually make these things up as I go along.”

Arthur huffed out a laugh, but his smile fell when he saw the pinched look on Merlin’s face.

“Be careful, Arthur.”

He considered a sardonic retort but the look in Merlin’s eye was too serious for him to manage it. The danger of the situation settled back into cold reality and what he was about to do sobered him.

“You too, Merlin.”

There was so much more to say and they both knew it, but now was not the time. So Merlin just nodded and watched as Arthur launched himself into the fray. He only stayed long enough to make sure the fighting knights weren’t going to turn on him. They seemed to be too preoccupied with fighting for their lives for the enchantment that Catrina cast to have much effect. Years of training and muscle memory allowed them to fall in line behind their prince without question as the dragon turned in the air and dove, fire pouring from his mouth.

Merlin hated the thought of leaving Arthur now. He belonged at his side, protecting him especially in a fight as fierce as this but he had to go. There was work to be done that couldn’t done here. Merlin just had to content himself with the fact that the faster he found a way to stop the dragon, the sooner Arthur would be out of danger. He pulled himself away, reluctantly.

He ran through the corridors toward Gaius’s chambers trying to avoid detection but the more people he passed, the clearer it became that no one was interested in capturing a few fugitives when there was a giant _dragon_ attacking the city.

So he abandoned his caution and picked up speed. Rounding a corner, he slammed into a smaller body that went flying backward, a bucket of water collapsing and drenching the floor.

“Gwen!” Merlin pulled her to her feet and brushed off her shoulders politely but with the edge of haste that left him bouncing on the balls of his feet as he spoke. “Where’s Gaius?”

“He’s tending to the wounded. I was bringing fresh water.” She said, looking at the mess around them in dismay. Then remembrance returned to her and she looked back at him. “Merlin, what are you doing here? I thought you had fled? Where’s Arthur? Is he dead?”

“Arthur’s fine.” Merlin said impulsively, then remembered where Arthur was at the moment and winced, a sharp jab of worry twisting in him. “As fine as he can be. Can you take me to Gaius? It’s urgent.”

She nodded, gathering up the discarded bucket. “But I need to get more water first. The injured people really need it.”

Merlin did a quick calculation at how long that would take, groaning when it became apparent it would be too long. He steeled himself and snatched the bucket from Gwen’s hands. A quick spell had it full of clean cool water in less than a second.

“Merlin! What-”

“I’ll explain everything later but right now we don’t have time!” Merlin shouted, holding tightly to the bucket with one hand and grabbing Gwen’s arm in the other. He took off running in the direction Gwen had been headed.

It took her a moment to overcome the sudden shock but she eventually took the lead and then was pulling Merlin along behind her. They crashed into the great hall but went mostly unnoticed amid the chaos and mass of seething bodies. So many people lost and wounded, homeless and refugees.

Merlin spotted Gaius’ hunched form quickly though, and he passed the water off to Gwen before running for him. She was right on his heels.

“Gaius!”

“Oh, my boy. Thank gods you’re here.” Gaius turned from the arm he was bandaging to drag him into a fierce hug.

Pulling back, Merlin kept his hands on the old man’s shoulders. “What’s going on? What happened since I left? How did the dragon escape?”

Gaius looked at him for a long moment, but a sharp impatient breath from Merlin pressed the urgency of the situation. “After Uther passed, Morgana killed the troll. All the enchantments she’d placed on the people lifted and they all believed that Arthur was dead.”

There was a million questions swirling around his head so he grabbed the closest one with hopefully the quickest answer. “Who took the throne?”

“Morgana. The truth of her lineage came to light and she was crowned queen.” Gaius looked over at Gwen and answered.

“What truth?”

“She was Uther’s daughter.”

The shock lasted only long enough for the large exterior doors to burst open and a small band of knights to pour inside, before slamming them shut behind them, stealing everyone’s attention. Merlin noticed Lancelot was among them, and Leon as well. In his peripheral, he saw Gwen rush forward into Lance’s arms but his eyes were fixed solely on Arthur. Dripping with sweat and spattered with blood that wasn’t his own and generally looking worse for wear but he was alive.

“Check for stragglers and man the exits. Do not open the doors for anything.” Arthur commanded, leaving his knights behind to find his place beside Merlin.

The room seemed captivated by his words, by his figure, like they were witnessing a phantom. But Merlin supposed to them, they probably were.

“We can’t fend him off with swords alone.” Arthur murmured so only Merlin could hear. “We’ll need your magic.”

“Gaius.” Merlin said, dragging the physician’s attention away from his shock at the newly returned prince's knowledge. “You must know. How can we defeat a dragon?”

“Merlin have you ever heard the name Balinor?” Gaius asked.

“No, should I?"

“Never you mind. I’ll not trouble you with it now but if we survive the night I’ll explain everything. In all my readings, I’ve found only one way to conquer a dragon. We need a dragonlord.” There was weight behind his words that went beyond the words themselves. Merlin could feel it but he couldn’t say with any certainty what the older man was trying to tell him.

“My father executed the last dragonlord nearly twenty years ago.” Arthur pointed out and Gaius answered with a weary nod and a few simple words that made color rise in Merlin’s cheeks.

“That’s true but I believe if there is anyone alive powerful enough to handle a dragon, it’s Merlin. I have no doubt you have the strength within yourself. You just need to reach it.”

"But that is not a guarentee." Arthur said. He didn't want to ask Merlin to face a dragon without any concrete idea of how to defeat him. Merlin could see Arthur cared too much about him to send him out there on the chance that he might be able to acess this untapped strength in time. He only wished that Arthur knew he would never have to ask.

"Uther executed the last guarentee twenty years ago." Merlin said.

The trio was silent as they looked at one another and around at the shattered faces of these innocent people looking to them for salvation. Merlin glanced at Arthur and saw the weight of an entire kingdom settled on his shoulders, more heavily than it ever had before. He wished he could bear some of the burden. What’s the other half of one’s coin for if not this? But in truth, Merlin did share his burden, the crushing weight of their great destiny, but even his partnership couldn’t take any of it from Arthur. It just kept growing until it was suffocating them.

“Well I can’t just stand here and watch the dragon destroy my city.” Arthur said, meeting several eyes around the large room. The contact only seemed to strengthen his resolve as he returned to the door he’d just come through. A strong hand paused on the wood, though, and he turned back to meet Merlin’s eye one last time only to find the other man was gone. Looking around, he suddenly came face to face with the man in question. Merlin stood by his side, brows raised expectantly. “Shall we go then?”

“Are you really going to face the dragon with me?”

After everything they’d been through together, it irked Merlin a bit that he would still doubt him but there wasn’t just shock in his gaze, there was pride, and adoration, astonishment, gratitude, and all of that made Merlin’s irritation fade away. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, having Arthur doubt the strength of his loyalty if he gave him that look every time Merlin proved himself.

The corner of Merlin’s lips tilted up. “I have about a million reasons why I can’t let you go out there alone. Only one of which is all that destiny nonsense I’ll have to fill you in on later.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed but he was smiling so Merlin went on. “For another, you couldn’t last five minutes without me there to save your life.”

An affronted laugh bubbled up from his chest but Merlin spoke before he could argue, “And I couldn’t bear to be away from you. Not at a time like this.”

Arthur smile softened to just the gentle curve of lips as he pushed through the doors. They closed quickly behind the pair, leaving them both in sudden, eerie silence. Bodies were scattered across the ground, buildings burned to nothing but ashes. There was no sign of the dragon in the sky, but they could hear the repetitive whisper of wind that could only be the flapping of enormous wings.

The whispers got louder until they were a steady whipping noise and the dragon appeared over the top of the castle wall. Merlin took a deep breath and gathered his magic around him. Maybe if he used enough magic, more than he’d ever dared to use before, maybe it would be enough to slow the dragon.

“I could live a thousand lives and never be worthy of the faith you show me.” Arthur pulled his sword from it’s sheath, the ring of metal lancing straight through Merlin. He watched the other man roll his shoulders, take a few steps forward and settle easily into a practiced battle stance.

“All that matters is that you’re worthy of it in this one.” Merlin said, forcing the words through the lump in his throat. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to run, to drag Arthur away and lock him in his room so he won’t be able to do anything as stupid as staring down a charging dragon alone.

But he wasn’t alone, was he? No Merlin had made sure of that and he knew he could spend the rest of his life making sure that Arthur was never alone.  

It only took a single strike of the great dragon’s claw to send Arthur flying through the air after landing only a passing blow himself. Merlin split his magic between catching the man and sending an attack after the retreating beast.

A thundering chuckle rattled his chest and the dragon spun, landing easily before Merlin. Without a chasm between them Merlin took in the full size of the dragon. Easily the largest creature he’d ever seen. The size of one of his claws alone was the same length as Merlin’s arm. He tried not to let that phase him though. Calling his magic up from deep inside him, he raised his hands in what he hoped was a threatening gesture, but the dragon only laughed again.

“Do not think you can harm me, young warlock. Your strength may be prophesied but I am a creature of the old religion. Your magic is no match for mine.” The dragon boomed, shifting back onto it’s massive haunches so it could peer down at Merlin.

His magic was singing in his veins, being this close. It was twisting beneath his skin, sparking in the air around him begging to be free, piercing deep in his chest to pull something strange upwards. That magic that was crawling from the depths of his soul was something old, earthy and bitter that he’d never felt before. It curled around his limbs leaving a burning trail in it’s wake.

The words that poured from his lips were unlike any spell he’d ever learned. They were instinctual. He knew how to speak them as he knew how to pull breath into his lungs.

Kilgarrah bowed his head, surrendering under Merlin’s command. He considered killing the dragon. He’d been the cause of so much destruction and ruin, anything less than execution hardly seemed an appropriate punishment. Merlin could kill him. He had the power inside him, he knew, but the thought of ending his life and effectively driving the whole race to extinction was too much.

What kind of dragonlord would he be if he let that happen? What kind of person? And he knew with the same bone-deep certainty with which he’d spoken those words that he was a dragonlord like the father he never knew and his father before him.

“Go! Uther is dead and your thirst for vengeance is laid to rest with him. Leave and never return or I will not afford you the same mercy.” Merlin said, pouring all of his newfound authority into his voice.

“Your kindness has proven you worthy of your great destiny, young warlock. I will never forget this. I will forever be indebted to you.” The dragon bowed once again and took to the sky with a massive thrust of wings and muscles rippling beneath leathery skin.

When the dragon was out of sight and not even the sound of wings whistling through the air could be heard, Merlin exhaled the biggest breath he’d ever taken. His shoulders slumped and all the shock over what had just transpired left him numb. That is, until a strong voice calling his name drew his attention and relief came crashing over him at what he saw.

Arthur was watching him with something like awe. No fear, revulsion, disgust, anger. Just awe.

He hadn’t realized until then how much it hurt to keep his magic from Arthur. It was like stepping out of a tiny room and standing at his full height for the first time in his entire life. He didn’t have to keep his secrets from Arthur anymore. He didn’t have to hide parts of himself away anymore.

“Merlin!” His name jarred him out of his thoughts as the hands on his arms pulled him back to the present. Merlin threw his arms around Arthur and fell into his chest when the embrace was returned.

“I thought you were dead.” A cool voice called from the steps, forcing Merlin and Arthur apart so Arthur could draw his sword and face the new comer. Morgana stood at the top of the large staircase, black gown flowing around her, kohl smudged thickly around her eyes. It gave her the impression of a scowl even while the corner of her mouth was tipped up in a smile. The measure of joy Merlin felt at seeing her died when he took in the figure looking down on them.

“Morgana!” Arthur called, lowering his sword as he took a few steps toward her.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

Lightening crashed around them. Merlin barely grabbed Arthur and pulled him out of the way before a bolt cracked right where he’d been standing. Sparks crackled in the air for a moment before dissipating.

“What the hell are you doing?” Arthur shouted, pushing away from Merlin and crawling to his feet. Merlin couldn’t see his skin through his gloves but he could tell his grip on his sword was white knuckled.

“The throne is mine, Arthur.” Morgana said, flowing down the steps with ease. “Didn’t you hear? Father dearest had a few secrets he neglected to share. I guess we both kept secrets. Uther didn’t tell us he was my father. And I didn’t tell that I found my half sister Morgause. She came when she heard he was dead and told me truth about my lineage. She’s been teaching me. It's only been a few days but I think I'm getting rather good. What do you think?”

She sent another whip of lightening in the space between Merlin and Arthur, jolting them even farther apart.

“What are you doing Morgana?” Arthur asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m taking what’s rightfully mine.”

“You want Camelot?”

“I want the world. But I’ll take what I can get.” She smirked, coming to rest a few feet away. The look was sinister but it looked brittle, like the facade would crumble away at any minute. Her lips curved down a moment later, her next words far less cruel. “Uther was a monster who killed hundreds of innocents in blind hatred. Those with magic would never have been safe under a reign like his. And you are just like him.”

“You’re wrong.” Merlin snapped, charging forward angrily but Arthur placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

Morgana went on as if he hadn’t even spoken, voice somehow more sure and less confident in the same breath, “I have magic. You can’t even imagine what that feels like to live in fear for your life for something you have no control over. To know that the people you care about would hate you if they knew who you really are.”

Arthur swallowed thickly, unable to keep his eyes from drifting to Merlin who met his eyes for only a brief instant before turning to the ground. He wanted to tell Morgana that it wasn’t true, that he’d known for a long time and still loved her, but the words fell flat. He wanted Merlin to tell her he understood the pain of secrecy and could relate but it didn’t seem like enough. He wanted to do something but she just kept going.

“I need to protect the people like me, Arthur. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

“You released the dragon.” Merlin said, awe and accusation thick in his tone.

“The dragon was a creature of magic that Uther enslaved for decades for no other reason than his own fear.”

“He tried to destroy Camelot!” Arthur yelled, gripping his sword tighter and strongly resisting the urge to go charging at her just to get her to stop this nonsense.

“Whatever it takes to bring justice for my people.”

“Even if that means killing me?” Arthur asked, wondering how he’d let it get this convoluted.

“If need be.” She said grimly.

“I won’t let you do that.” Merlin said lowly, pushing forward.

“Merlin.” Arthur snapped under his breath, trying to call him back to his side and out of harm’s way. But the man just shook his head.

Keeping his eyes fixed on Morgana, he addressed Arthur, “No! I won’t stand back anymore. She has to know. She has no idea what she’s talking about. The way to protect sorcerers isn’t by killing you.” Merlin took a deep breath and turned his words onto Morgana who was looking increasingly confused. “The people of Camelot will never accept you if you kill Arthur. You know that. Let Arthur reclaim the throne and he can bring magic back to Camelot.”

“Why would he?” Morgana pleaded, eyes begging Merlin but Arthur answered.

“I’ve known about your magic for weeks.” He said, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Just like I’ve known about Merlin’s.”

Morgana deflated then. Any bravado she’d been clinging to fell away as she looked between Merlin and Arthur and back again. Her eyes were wide and glassy and Arthur imagined his didn’t look too much different as he sheathed his sword and stepped forward, single hand outstretched toward his sister.


	8. Camelot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilouge

It took months to rebuild the city after the dragons attacks, nearly as long to repair all of the havoc that had been wreaked on Camelot’s law’s by a troll queen. But some laws, Arthur decided, were better left repealed.

He readjusted his crown for the fourth time, deciding that the king’s crown was a lot more cumbersome than the one he’d had to wear as a prince. But there was nothing for it. He set his shoulders and strode into the throne room where his court waited with thinly veiled anticipation. The low buzz of chatter died away respectfully when he entered though.

Taking his place before his throne, he cast a glance back at the doors where Merlin was supposed to be following shortly behind him. There was a small commotion, a large clatter, and Merlin came busting through the doors to fall on flat on his face. Arthur took a small amount of pleasure from the fact that the ceremonial robes Merlin had to wear as Court Sorcerer were a lot more cumbersome than the one’s he’d had to wear as a manservant.

“Not a word.” Merlin glowered when he reached Arthur and took his place beside him. The wicked grin Arthur’d been fighting back returned with a vengeance and he barely managed to restrain it.

“That would hardly be kingly of me, would it?”

“You’re hardly a king.” Merlin murmured.

“I believe the words you used were ‘greatest this land has ever known’.”

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Not likely.” Arthur answered, just as Lancelot reached them. After a deep bow to Arthur and a friendly nod to Merlin he spoke quietly, “Your highness, the Lady Morgana and the rest of the druids are nearly here. They sent word that they are looking forward to staying in Camelot and are humbled at your offer to host them for a celebration of peace between our two peoples.”

Arthur nodded and dismissed Lancelot with a smile. He watched the knight return to his place among the crowd and settle effortlessly beside Guinevere who he’d recently made his wife. His eyes swept over the crowd taking in the familiar faces he’d been surrounded by since birth.

He was the king of Camelot. It still hadn’t quite settled in yet, sometimes it barely occurred to him, then other times it crashed over him like merciless wave. He was the king of Camelot. Good, loyal Camelot that he ruled and ruled him just as equally. He would do anything for his land, his people, for the love of Camelot.

Glancing over, Arthur saw a look on Merlin’s face that was becoming increasingly familiar and the least irritating of all of his looks.

“You’re more than any of us could’ve hoped for.” He said, voice light and eyes nearly glowing with praise.

Arthur would’ve laughed it off, rolled his eyes and made some sharp retort, but Merlin’s eyes were just so sincere. The words wrapped around him in a warm embrace that felt like Merlin’s magic when they were alone in his chambers at night.There was no one in the world that could make him feel this way, so tall and so adored. And he knew with just as much sincerity that the man beside him was more than he could’ve ever hoped for.

Yes. He would do anything for the love of…Camelot.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed!  
> And I thank everybody who left Kudos and all the wonderful comments. You'll never know how much it meant to me.


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